Skip to main content

Full text of "Sterling's Southern {fourth-fifth] reader"

See other formats

Digitized by the Internet Archive 

in 2012 with funding from 

LYRASIS members and Sloan Foundation 


North Carolina State Library 













The favor with which the public have kindly received the former 
numbers of Sterling's Southern Readers has stimulated the author 
to exert himself to complete the series as speedily as possible. 

The present volume, though carefully fitted, like each of its prede- 
cessors, to the place which it holds in the series, forms also in itself 
a complete progressive Reader. The chief difference between it and 
the Third Reader is, that we have given more extended and specific 
instructions in the art of reading ; and the selections have been made 
and arranged with special reference to the known wants of learners. 
The mind of the pupil is presumed to have expanded as he has ad- 
vanced through the preceding numbers of the series. He must ex- 
pect, therefore, that greater demands will be made upon his powers 
of thought in the lessons of this book. 

The special purpose we have had in view in the preparation of this 
volume is to facilitate the acquisition of the art of reading ; while, at 
the same time, we have sought to plant the precious seeds of virtue, 
to cherish and protect them in their growth, and to supply the means 
of moral culture ; to enrich the mind with useful knowledge by mak- 


ing it familiar with noble sentiments and elegant diction; and tc 
bring it into communion with many of those master-spirits that have 
by their works most adorned and elevated English literature. 

We have made many selections fi'om authors, who hitherto have 
had no place in any similar works, because we deemed their style 
and talent not inferior to the best authors in the English language. 
We have drawn copiously from the Sacred Scriptures — the source 
of all true piety and morality, if not the very spring and fountain of 
all that is sublime, beautiful, and pathetic in style. 

With the hope that our labors may prove valuable to the young 
and acceptable to those engaged in the business of Education, we 
commend this volume to the favorable regard of the public. 

Greensboro, N. C, 1865. 




Articulation,.. .,, 

Tones, 1 „ 

Inflection, 1 

Rising Inflection, 

Falling Inflection, 

Both Inflections, .„ 


Circumflex, . _ 

Accent, _, _ 

K lo 


Absolute Emphasis, 

Relative Emphasis, 

Emphatic Phrase, 


Rhetorical Pause, 

Poetical Pause, . 

Address to Teachers, 



1. The Three Readers, MHOm Yinet, Fr. 19 

2. Benjamin Franklin, Bancroft, Mass. 23 

3. The Just Judge, Anonymous. 26 

4 The Bible, the Light-house of the World, B&o. T. V. Moore, D.D., Va. 80 

5. The Two Roads, Anonymous. 32 

6 The Righteous Never Forsaken, Anonymous. 34 

7. Death of Jasper, R. M Charlton, G a. 38 

8. History of Prince Arthur, Charles Dickens, Eng. 40 

9. The Fukeer 's Reward, Mrs. Mary A. Miller, N. C. 45 

10. 2d Samuel, Chap, xviii., BtbU. 46 

11. A Mother's Influence Ladies' Magazine. 50 

12. An Indian Legend, CharUs Gayarre, La. 55 

13. The Mocking- Bird, St, Leger L. Carter, Va. 57 

14. All Quiet Along the Potomac To-night, Anonymous. 5J 

15. No Excellence without Labor, William Wirt, T a. 61 

16. My Life is like the Summer Rose Son. B. LT. IMde, Ga. b3 



17. Death of R.H. Wilde, Hon. A. B. Meek, Ala^Z 

lb. Christ and the Blind Man, (John be.,) Bible 66 

19. Abandonment of the Aged by the Indians, " .'." '.'.".'. '.".'. '.Awnymous' 69 

20. Home, 

21. It is Somebody's Child,... nyrmm ^ 

Eng. 76 

Mrs. Norton, Eng. 78 

24. The Ducal Palace-Venice, Rev. j Leyburn, D.D., Va 82 

25. Death of the Year '59, Mrs. S. P. Atkinson, N. C. 84 

26. The Folly of Complaining, Rev. C. F. Deems, D.D. Jf. Q 86 

27. Fath 

20 - Home '--- Anonymous. 72 

It is somebody's Child, 

22. Apostrophe to Light Milton 

23. Bingen on the Rhine, 

H. Father Deruelle, Mrs. Mary A. Miller, N. C 

28. Voyage of Sir George Somers to Virginia, R. R. Ilowison Va. 


Montgomery,^ Eng. 96 

■ Addison, Eng. 99 

SO. Portrait of a Patriarch, . 

31. A Pleasant Surprise, From the German. 

32. Washington, Hon. John Marshall, Fa 

33. Dr. Franklin's Conversational Powers, William Wirt Va 106 

34. The Tutor and his Pupils, A& ti ' ; 

35. Queen Isabella's Resolve, Anonymous. 115 

36 The Return of Columbus, Anonymous. 119 

37. Reception of Columbus, Lamar tin,, Er. 121 

38. Charles II. of England, Macaulay, Eng. 123 

39. Battle of Fort Moultrie, m Gilmore Simn^, 8. C. 128 

4*. Beyond the River,. N. 0. Creole, La. m 

41. Remark-able Preservation, .„.!+#. Wilson, Scot. 134 

42. Ecclesiastes, Chap, xii., ' 

u. S7?:et. ^:v::::: : : ::::::::::::::::;: ' ::=: f^ % 

u. S:^' ** ^m^». d U a ,45 

4T. Horrors of War £" K„V, ' ui,l?TT* "' 

48. The Maid of Or ean . .' *"' *^f ',f ^ ^ 151 

aq tu t> i ,/w Erom tlie French. 155 

49. The Peaks of Otter,.. . o^ th-»*,„ ■»*■ 

50. The Shadows, ... '.7/'; ZZ^T^ l* ™ 

51. TheRainbow %M^ )Zy . 161 

52. John James Audubon, ■ Campbell, Scot, m 

53. John James Audubon, ' Anonymous, m 

54. Matthew, Chap, v., ..'...'.".WW" Anonymous. 170 

55. Matthew, Chap, vi., vii., *. Bihle - 1U 

56. The Sunbeam, ' Bible. 177 

57. The Vulture of the Alps Mrs. Hemans, Eng. 181 

58. The Women of the Revolution -■■■■■■Anonymous. 1S3 

59. The Temporal B.essings of Christianity "^ flfv 5 T"' ^ 

60. The Destiny of Man, ' *** ** ^ ^ w ^ AT £ 188 

61. Filial Duties .... Massillon, Fr. 190 

62. B 

attleof Ilohenlinden,. 

Bon. Charles Manly, N. C. 192 

63 Eighteen ' S- & C. Abbott, 3fe. 193 

61. The Dying Soldier' Charlotte Br onU, Eng. m 

65. Buena Vista ' L Anonymous. 199 

66. Marriage of the Sun and Moon, n ""'a' tp 

07. Three Summer Studies,.... ■•• /7 ^- Mlm ™° a > *• « 203 

#67?, yJ/forT! P^g, vlr^-. 200 

. /7. <£ Ell en wood, N. C. 203 

.James Barron Hope, Va. 205 



, Isaiah, Chap, lv., *£**' ™* 

K t% .,ni,'i. Bible. 209 

69. Daniel, Chap. ix., ••• •••" 

70 Farewell to the Dead, *". Uemans, Eng. 2,2 

71 Festina Lente, .....So. Lit. Messenger, Va. 214 

72*. All His Works Praise Him, From the German. 217 

73. Peter the Great and the Deserter, Anonymous. 219 

74. Peter the Great and the Deserter, Anonymous. 222 

75. The Hill of Science, - Aikin, Eng. 226 

76 Oconee, @ en - &• %' Jackson, Ga. 231 

77. La Fayette and Robert Raikes, Grimke, 8. G. 233 

78. I know thou art gone, Anonymous. 237 

79. Lines in a Cemetery, WilUam B. Wallace, Ky. 238 

80. Descent of the Ohio, JoJm James Audubon, La. 241 

81. Liberty and Greatness, Hugh Swinton Legare, S. G. 243 

82. Integrity the most Important Element of Character,. Hon. William Gaston, N. G. 244 

83. The Blind Preacher, William Wirt, Va. 246 

84. Midnight Musings, Young, Eng. 250 

85. A Portrait, Paul H. Hayne, S. C. 252 

86. The Star above the Manger, Theo. H. Hill, N. C. 253 

87. William Tell, Knoxoles, Ir. 256 

88. William Tell, Knowles, lr. 265 

89. The Window-Panes at Brandon, J. B. Thompson, Va. 269 

90. Swannanoa, Ashewlle News, N. G. 272 

91. Pompeii, Anonymous. 274 

92. God's First Temples, William C. Bryant, N. T. 277 

93. Death at the Toilet, Diary of a Physician. 281 

94. Natural Bridge, (Va.,) Eng. Journal. 2S4 

95. To my Daughter Lilly, Philip P. Cooke,Va. 2S7 

96. AHebrewTale, -2f™. Sigourney, Ct. 290 

97. Party Spirit,... M.B.Lamar, Tex. 293 

98. The Exploits of General Taylor, Hon. Jeff. Davis, Miss. 296 

99. The Reward of Hospitality, Idle Hours, m 

100. Divinity of Christ, &*. 304 

101. Faith in Christ, BMe ' 30T 

102. Psalm civ., ***■•£ 

103. Revelation, Chap, xxi BibU - 310 


To read well is an accomplishment acquired by comparatively few ; 

10 reaa wen i» a r contribute as much real 

and yet no otber attainment ca l be made to con ^ 

pleasure in the domestic ^^'^J^teni upon the harp 
mu ch delight to^^ZTZ, an'd labor spelt in obtain- 
or pnmo-forte . JVere "^ tB devoted to the study of the 

z;^r^:z r rimt mM ^ ««-« ***- 

a 1hT^S: D t o-accomplished in reading, as a rhetorical^r- 
cise is to impart to the hearer a clear and accurate idea of the thoughts 
Z eelingTof the write, In order to do this it is of the first import- 
ZiTZ L reader shall thoroughly understand and appreciate those 
thoughts and feelings. This must claim the very first at ent o , with- 
out it the most elegant and eloquent sentiments will make only a feeble 
impression upon the hearer. To read Veil a person must ^ be able to 
assume the place of the writer, to feel as he feels-and to utter the 
sentiments of the book with the same earnestness with which he would 
cress his own ideas upon his hearers. 

* It is of the first importance that the pupil he taught to pronounce 
correctly, and to pronounce correctly requires a thorough knowledge 
of the elementary principles of Spelling. The art of spelling then be- 
comes one of the most essential parts of a good education ; it is the 
corner-stone; and the strength and symmetry of the -P-™ 
depend much upon it." The pupil should be thoroughly drilled m 
the rules of orthography. Too much care and judgment cannot be 
shown in the selection of books for this purpose. The pupil should be 
taught the nature, power, and sound of letters; and should be made 
to enunciate all these different sounds, and classify them, until he 
has fully mastered this department. He may then learn the rules of 
spelling, be required to tell the accented syllable and vowel the vowel 
sound of the accented syllable, the other vowel sounds and the sounds 
of the consonants, the rules of syllabication, etc. A clear idea ol the 
exercise here recommended may be obtained from the Analyses attached 
to the lessons in « Sterling's Southern Elementary Spelling Book 

After a thorough course of this kind, the student is PQ*"**, «T 
derstand and apply the rules of reading. These are neit fcerha d to 
learn nor difficult to understand. They may be classified under the 
following heads: Articulation, Tones, Inflection, Accent, Emphastf, 



Articulation is the art of uttering distinctly and properly the letters 
and syllables constituting a word. Without a clear and faithful artic- 
ulation, there can be no good elocution. Distinctness of articulation 
contributes more than mere loudness of sound to an audible and intel- 
ligible delivery. As soon as the student begins to read, he should be 
taught to enunciate his words with a full, round, clear voice. 

Common errors in articulation may be avoided by observing the fol- 
lowing rules : 

Rule I.— Do not omit or obscure the sound of unaccented vowels in a 
word or syllable ; as, B' lief for belief; hist' ry for history ; serrate for 
separate; mem 'ry for memory; particular for particular ; 'pear for ap- 
pear; erf dent for evident. 

Rule II. — ^^^^ distinctly the consonants at the end of a word or 


Much of the indistinctness of articulation is caused by the neglect of 
this rule. The following are examples ; as, 

Readin' for reading; swifly for swiftly; art for and; ban' for 
oa?id; comman's for commands; weps' for weptst ; thrus' for thrusts. 
Rule III.— Avoid the substitution of one sound for another ; as, 
Wilier for willow ; produx for products ; com-per-tent for competent; 
mem-er-yfor memory; win-e-gar for vinegar; tem-per-it for temperate; 
chil-drin for children; par-tic-er-lar for particular. 

Rule IV.— Avoid blending the last syllable of a word with the first 
syllable of the next. 
A tanchor la dremo fro mome, 
At anchor laid remote from home. 
Here— res e zed upon th' tapper verth, 
A youth tofor turnan tofa munknown, 
Here rests his head upon the lap of earth, 
A youth to fortune and to fame unknown. 


By close attention to ordinary conversation, we will discover that 
scarcely any two words are uttered in the same tone. They vary from 
some one point, ascending or descending like the notes of the scale in 
music. This is called the key-note. The position of the key-note 
vanes in the scale according to the subject and the emotion of the 
speaker. It may be High, Middle, or Low. 

The range of the voice from extreme low to extreme high is called 
the compass, while the regulation of the voice as to pitch, pauses etc 
is called the modulation. The degree in which the pitch is changed! 
and also the direction of that change, whether high or low, must de- 
pend in a great degree on tho taste and judgment of the reader A 


low key is naturally adapted to the expression of solemnity, reverence, 
awe, fear, or sadness, when under the influence of any depressing pas- 
sion. The high key is used in calling a person at a distance, or when 
the speaker is under the influence of strong passion, as in levity, joy, 
boldness, anger. The middle key is adapted to simple narrative, and 
is used to express ordinary thought and moderate emotion. Any con- 
tinued address in the same tone should be avoided. 

Rule I. — Let the reader or speaker choose that key-note most natural 
and easy to himself, and above and below which he has most room for 

Rule II. — Avoid monotony or the continuation of the same tone 
throughout the sentence. This is one of the greatest and most common 
faults in elocution. 

It is proper to remark, however, that sometimes sentences occur that 
require a violation of this rule ; as the following from Job, " In thoughts 
from the visions of the night, when deep sleep falleth on men, fear 
came upon me, and trembling, which made all my bones to shake." 

Rule III. — Avoid an abrupt transition from a low to a high pitch 
when the language and sentiment do not warrant it. 

There is sometimes a regular sort of variation which has no connec- 
tion with the sense. A sentence is commenced vehemently, and then 
the voice tapers down word by word till it reaches an almost inaudible 
pitch. A similar fault is often seen in the sing-song habit so common 
in reading poetry, where the variation has no reference to the sense. 

Rule IV. — The tones of the voice should always correspond with the 
nature of the subject. Thus, persuasion requires soft insinuating tones ; 
commands, full and strong tones ; anger, harsh, irregular, and some- 
times grating tones ; pity and sorrow, soft and plaintive tones. 

All the errors in tone which have been mentioned will be avoided, if 
the reader, guided by the sense, gives that emphasis, inflection, and ex- 
pression which are necessary to bring out the full meaning of his author. 

The human voice is susceptible of almost unlimited improvement, 
in strength, compass, and flexibility. And the student must, if he 
would become perfect in the art of elocution, give it that time and at- 
tention which its importance demands. 


Inflections are the bendings or slides of the voice upward or down- 
ward in reading or speaking. 

There are two inflections, the rising, marked (') ; as, Did you speak' ? 
And the falling, marked Q ; as, I did speak\ Sometimes both these in- 
flections occur in the same question ; as, Will you go' or stay v ? In gen- 
eral, the rising inflection denotes that the sense is incomplete ; the 
falling, that it is complete. These slides may be exhibited in writing 


the word, as follows : Did you say ^ Tfr 

or *~° 

In the following sentences the first memher has the rising, and the 
second the falling inflection: Is he rich' or is he poor"? Will the 
wounded man live' or will he die" ? 

In the following the first member has the falling, and the second the 
rising inflection. He acted properly", not improperly'. He is welT, 
not sick' 

Though these marks always indicate the same kind of inflection, they 
by no means show the extent of the rise or fall. In some the voice 
has a very slight, and in others a very marked upward or downward 
movement depending upon the nature of the sentiment expressed, 
No definite rules can be given for the extent of the inflection. We 
must in all cases be guided by the intent of the utterance, rather than 
by its rhetorical form. 


Rule I.— Direct questions, or those which can he answered by yes or 
no, require the rising inflection ; out their answers, the falling. 

Examples —Will you send me those books' ? Yes\ Does the law 
condemn him' ? It does not\ Is he the God of the Jews only ? is he 
not also of the Gentiles'? Yes", of the Gentiles also". 

Exception.— If these questions are repeated with peculiar emphasis, 
they take the falling inflection. Example.— Where did you find these 
flowers" ? In the lawn". Where did you say" ? In the lawn'. ^ 

When, however, a word or sentence is repeated as a kind of interro- 
gatory exclamation, the rising inflection is used according to the rule.j 

Example.— He is called the friend" of virtue. The friend' ! ay ! the 
enthusiastic lover", the elevated protector" rather. 

Rule IL— The pause of suspension, in incomplete sentences, generally 
takes the rising inflection. 

Example.— The young', the healthy', and the prosperous', should not 
presume on their advantages". 

Note.— Direct address made to a person or thing falls under this 

rule ; as, 

Officers', soldiers', friends', Americans', our country must be free. 

Fathers' I we meet again in council. 

Rule III.— Expressions of tenderness, as of grief or kindness, com- 
monly take the rising inflection. 

Example.— my son Absalom', my son', my son Absalom' ! would tc 
God I had died for thee', Absalom', my son', my son 1 


Rule TV .—Questions which cannot be answered by yes or no take tfa 
falling inflection. 


Examples.— How many lessons have you learned" ? Three\ When 
did he go" ? Yesterday". 

Note. — Answers to questions, when expressive of indifference, gen- 
erally take the rising inflection. 

Example— Which do you prefer ? I have no choice'. 
Rule V.—The falling inflection is generally used when the sense is 

Examples.— -Men generally die as they live" ! Keep thy heart with 
all diligence" ! 

Note.— As a sentence generally ends with the falling inflection, the 
rising inflection is employed at the penultimate pause, or the last pause 
but one, in order to promote harmony and variety of sound. 

Rule VI.— Language expressive of strong emotion, as of anger or 
surprise, of authority or reproach, require the falling inflection. 
Example. — Begone". 

Run" to your houses, fall" upon your knees, 
O fools" ! and slow of heart" to believe all that the prophets" 
have written concerning me", 
Rule VII. — An emphatic succession of particulars and emphatic 
repetition require the falling inflection. 
Hail" holy light" !.. offspring" of heaven first born. 

The tear", 
The groan", the knell", the bier", 
And all we know" or dream" or fear", 
Of agony, are thine. 


Rule VIII. — WJien questions are connected by or used disjunctively, 
the first requires the rising, and the second the falling inflection. 

Example. — Does Napoleon merit praise' or censure" ? 

Rule IX. — When words or clauses are contrasted or compared, the 
first part usually has the rising, and the last the falling inflection. 

Example.— I have seen the effects of love' and hatred", joy' and grief, 
hope' and despair". 

Note. — When one of the members of such clauses is negative, and 
the other affirmative, generally the negative has the rising, and the af- 
firmative the falling inflection. 

Example. — Show your knowledge by your deeds", not by your words'. 


Circumflex is the union of the two inflections on the same word, be- 
ginning either with the falling, and ending with the rising, called the 
rising circumflex ; or beginning with the rising, and ending with the 
falling, called the falling circumflex. 

Rule X.—T7ie circumflex is mainly employed in the language of 
irony, and in expressing ideas, implying some condition either expressed 
or understood. 


Example. — He is a rare pattern of humanity. 

Queen. — Hamlet, you have your father much offended. 
Hamlet. — Madam, you have my father much offended. 


Accent is the peculiar force given to one or more syllables of a word. 
The accent is usually marked thus ('). 

As a general rule, custom is our only guide in ascertaining the ac- 
cented syllable. However, many words or parts of speech having the 
same form, are distinguished by accent alone. 

Ab'sent — not present. Absent' — to withdraw, stay away, 
Au'gust — a month. August' — grand. 

Gal'Iant — brave. Gallant' — a gay fellow. 

Adjectives and verbs are often distinguished from nouns by their 
accent ; as, 

Desert' — the verb. Des'ert — the noun. 

Cement' " " Cem'ent " " 

Accent' " " Ac'cent " " 


Emphasis is that stress of voice by which one or more words of a 
sentence are distinguished above the rest. This increased stress is, 
generally, not upon the whole word, but only on the accented syllable. 

Emphatic words are often printed in italics; those still more em- 
phatic in capitals. By the proper use of emphasis, we are able to 
impart animation and interest to conversation and reading. Its im- 
portance cannot be over-estimated, as the meaning of a sentence often 
depends upon the proper placing of the emphasis. Accent, inflection, 
and indeed every thing, yields to emphasis, 

Blair furnishes the following illustration of the importance and na- 
ture of emphasis : 

Did you walk into the city yesterday ? Ans. — No, my brother went. 

Did you walk into the city yesterday ? Ans. — No, I rode. 

Did you walk into the city yesterday? Ans. — No, I went into the 

Did you walk into the city yesterday ? Ans. — No, I went the day 


Absolute emphasis is used to designate the important word of a sen- 
tence without any direct reference to other words. 

Example. — I shall know but one country. The ends /aim at, shall 
be " my Country's, my God's and Truth's." 

Woe unto you, Pharisees ! Hypocrites ! 


Words are often emphasized, in order to exhibit the idea they ex- 

North Carolina State Library 


press, as compared or contrasted with some other idea. This is Rela- 
tive Emphasis. 
•Examples. — Living, I shall assert it ; dying, I shall assert it. 
It is much better to be injured than to injure. 
Without were fightings, within were fears. 


Sometimes several words in succession are emphasized. 
Example. Shall we try argument ? Sir, we have been trying that 
for the last ten years. 


Pauses are suspensions of the voice used in reading and speaking to 
attract attention to the emphatic idea, or to give the mind time to 
dwell upon it and give effect to the expression. 

There are three kinds of pauses, the Grammatical pause and Rhetor- 
ical pause, which belong to both prose and poetry ; and the Poetic 
pause, which is peculiar to poetry. 

The subject of Grammatical pauses has already been discussed in 
" Sterling's Southern Third Reader," and need not be here repeated. 


The Rhetorical pause occurs chiefly before or after an emphatic word 
or phrase, and sometimes both before and after. % No rule can be given 
for the length of these pauses. The correct taste of the reader must 
determine it. 

Pauses should generally be made in the following cases : 

1. Before a compound nominative ; and after a nominative consisting 
of a single word when emphatic ; as, 

Joy and sorrow — move him not. 

Prosperity — gains friends, but adversity — tries them. 

2. Before a relative clause, or clause equivalent to a relative ; as, 
This is the man — that loves me. 

Hypocrisy is the tribute — paid by vice to virtue. 

3. A pause is required after words which are in apposition or oppo- 
sition to each other ; as, 

Solomon — the son of David — was king of Israel. 
False delicacy is affectation — not politeness. 

4. Before a conjunction or conjunctive adverb ; as, 

But — it was reserved for Arnold — to blend all these bad qualities 
into one. 

5. Before an infinitive mood, especially when equivalent to a clause ; as, 
He smote me with a rod — to please my enemy. 

6. A pause is required when an ellipsis takes place ; as, 

To your faith add virtue ; to virtue — knowledge ; to knowledge — 
temperance; to temperance — patience. 

7. When a part of a sentence is out of the natural order; as, 


In adversity — men are tried. 
8. After each word of an emphatic phrase ; as, 
Shall we try argument ? Sir, we have been trying that for the last 
— ten — years. 


In reading poetry, the spirit and meaning of a sentence should never 
be sacrificed to a mechanical adherence to pauses of structure. The 
slight pause at the end of each line, which renders prominent the mel- 
ody, should never be so decided as to attract attention from the sense 
to rhythm. 

There is another important pause near the middle of each line, called 
the cassura, or caesural pause. The following lines will show this pause : 
Of all the causes — which conspire to blind 
Man's erring judgment — and mislead the mind ; 
What the weak head — with strongest bias rules, 
Is pride — the never-failing vice of fools. 
This caesural pause should never be so placed as to injure the sense, 
even to promote harmony. 

Sometimes where the sense requires it, two csesural pauses are pro- 
per; as, 

Soldier, rest ! — thy warfare o'er, 

Sleep the sleep — that knows no breaking ; 
Dream — of battle-fields — no more, 
Days of danger — nights of waking. 
Sometimes three caesural pauses are admissible ; the first and third are 
slight, and are called demi-caesural. The following lines afford an ex- 
ample : 

Our bugles— sang truce— for the night cloud— had lowered, 
And the sentinel stars — set their watch — in the sky ; 

And thousands had sunk — on the ground — overpowered ; 
The weary — to sleep — and the wounded — to die. 


> It is impossible to lay down any system of rules in themselves suffi- 
cient to make good readers. Much must depend upon the teacher, on 
his ability to show the application of those given, and to illustrate 
them by proper examples. In order to make elegant readers, it will be 
necessary, after the pupil has thoroughly mastered the rules, etc., of 
this introduction, to go back and frequently review. Under the guid- 
ance of the skilful teacher, he will find abundant illustration of these 
rules in the lessons that follow. We have endeavored to avoid the 
error, into which we conceive many modern systems of elocution fall, 
to put too much in books. The teacher, it would seem, is presumed to 
be ignorant, and the scholar so feeble-minded as to be incapable of 
drawing a conclusion or making an application for himself. We have 
proceeded upon a different supposition, and trust experience may not 
prove that we have been mistaken. The teacher who is prepared to 
discharge his responsibilities fully, will find the preceding principles 
and rules sufficient to accomplish the end designed. 




Spell and define — 

1. A-paet'ment, a division of a 5. Dis-con-ceht'ed, confused. 

house. 6. Re-as-stjred', relieved from 
Glare, dazzling light. fear. 

3. Mo-not'o-ny, sameness. 7. De-ci'pher, to read and explain. 
Huddled, crowded together. 8. Glis'ten, to shine. 

4. Jo-cose'ly, in jest. 9. Draft'ed, drawn by lot. 


1, It is related of Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, 
that as he once sat in his private apartment, a written peti- 
tion was brought to him, with the request that it should be 
immediately read. The king had just returned from hunt- 
ing, and the glare of the sun, or some other cause, had so 
affected his eyesight, that he found it difficult to make out 
a single word of the manuscript. 

2. His private secretary happened to be absent ; and the 
soldier who brought the petition could not tell the first let- 
ter of the alphabet from the last. There was a page, or 
favored boy-servant, in attendance in the corridor ; and 
upon him the king called. The page was a son of one of 

20 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

the noblemen of the court, but proved to be a very poor 

3. In the first place, he did not articulate distinctly. He 
huddled his words together in the utterance, as if they were 
syllables of one long word, which he must get through with 
as speedily as possible. His pronunciation was bad, and he 
did not modulate his voice so as to bring out the meaning 
of what he delivered. Every sentence was read with a dis^ 
mal monotony, as if it did not differ in any respect from 
that which preceded it. 

^ 4. "Stop," said the king impatiently; "is it an auc- 
tioneer's catalogue, or what is it, that you are hurrying 
over ? Send your companion to me." Another page, who 
stood at the door, now entered, and to him the king gave 
the petition. This second page began by hemming and 
clearing his throat in such an affected manner, that the king 
jocosely asked him if he had not slept in the public garden, 
with the gate open, the night before. 

5. The second page had a good share of self-conceit, 
however, and he was not disconcerted by the jest. He de- 
termined that he would avoid the rock on which his com- 
panion had been wrecked. So he commenced reading the 
petition with great formality and deliberation, emphasizing 
every word, and prolonging the articulation of every sylla- 
ble. But his manner was so tedious that the king cried 
out, " Stop ! Are you reciting a lesson in the elementary 
sounds ? Out of the room !— Stay !— Send to me that little 
girl who is sitting there by the fountain." 

0. The girl thus pointed out by the king was a daughter 
of one of the laborers employed by the royal gardener ; 
and she had come to help her father weed the flower-beds! 
It chanced that, like many of the poor people in Prussia, 
even in that day, she had received a good education. She 
was somewhat alarmed when she found herself in the king's 
presence, but was reassured when the king told her that he 
only wanted her to read for him, as his eyes were weak. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 21 

7. Now, Ernestine (for that was her name) was so fond of 
reading aloud, that frequently many of the poor people in 
the neighborhood would assemble at her father's house to 
hear her ; and those who could not themselves read would 
bring to her letters to decipher from distant friends or chil- 
dren. She thus acquired the habit of reading various sorts 
of handwriting promptly and well. 

8. The king gave her the petition, and she rapidly glanced 
through the opening lines to get some idea of what it 
was about. As she read, her eyes began to glisten, and her 
breast to heave. " What is the matter ?" asked the king ; 
" Don't you know how to read ?" " Oh, yes, sire," she re- 
plied, addressing him with the title usually applied to him : 
" I will now read it, if you please." 

9. The two pages were about to leave the room. " Re- 
main," said the king. The little girl began to read the pe- 
tition. It was from a poor widow, whose only son had 
been drafted to serve in the army, although his health was 
delicate, and his pursuits had been of a character to unfit 
him for military life. His father had been killed in battle, 
and the son was ambitious of being a portrait-painter. 

10. The writer told her story in a simple, concise 
manner, that carried to the heart a conviction of its truth ; 
and Ernestine read it with so much feeling, and with an 
articulation so just, in tones so pure and distinct, that when 
she had finished, the king, into whose eyes the tears had 
started, exclaimed, " Oh, now I understand what it is all 
about ; but I might never have known (certainly never 
have felt) its meaning, had I trusted to these young gentle- 
men, whom 1 now dismiss from my service for one year, 
recommending them to occupy it in learning to read." 

11. "As for you, my young lady," continued the king, "I 
know you will ask no better reward for your trouble than 
to be the instrument of carrying to this poor widow my or- 
der for her son's immediate discharge. Let me see if you 
can write as well as you can read. Take this pen and fol- 

22 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

low my dictation." He then dictated an order, which 
Ernestine wrote, and he signed. Galling one of his guards, 
he bade him accompany the girl and see that the order was 

12. How much happiness was Ernestine the means of be- 
stowing through her good elocution, united to the happy 
circumstance that brought it to the knowledge of the king ! 
First, there were her poor neighbors, to whom she could 
give instruction and entertainment. Then there was the 
poor widow who sent the petition, and who not only re- 
gained her son, but received through Ernestine an order for 
him to paint the king's likeness, so that the poor boy soon 
rose to great distinction, and had more orders than he 
could attend to. Words could not speak his gratitude, and 
that of his mother, to the little girl. 

13. And Ernestine had, moreover, the satisfaction of aid- 
ing her father to rise in the world, so that he became the 
king's chief gardener The king did not forget her, but 
had her well educated at his own expense. As for the two 
pages, she was indirectly the means of benefiting them also ; 
for, ashamed of their bad reading, they commenced study- 
ing in earnest, till they overcame the faults that had offend- 
ed the king. Both finally rose to distinction, one as a law- 
yer and the other as a statesman ; and they owed their ad- 
vancement in life to their good elocution. 

Madame Vinet. 

Spell and Define — 

10. Concise. 12. Entertainment. 13. Satisfaction. 
Dismiss. Distinction. Indirectly, 

11. Dictation. Regained. Advancement. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 23 

lesson ii. 
Spell and define — 

1. Mar'shalled, drawn up in Clan-des'tine-ly, secretly. 

order - 4. Fru-gal'i-ty, prudent economy 

2. Sat'ir-ized, severely censured. 5. Planned, devised. 
Knave, a dishonest man, a Ab'so-lute, complete. 

rogue. 7. In-ves'ti-gate, to search. 

3. Ab'bi-tka-ry, despotic. 8. Sub'tle, cunning. 


1. In Boston, in 1721, when the pulpit had marshalled 
Quakers and witches to the gallows, one newspaper, the 
New-England Courant, the fourth American periodical, was 
established as an organ of independent opinion, by James 
Franklin. Its temporary success was advanced by Benja- 
min, his brother and apprentice, a boy of fifteen, who wrote 
pieces for its humble columns, worked in composing the 
types, as well as in printing off the sheets, and himself as 
carrier distributed the paper to the customers. 

2. The little sheet satirized hypocrisy, and spoke of relig- 
ious knaves as of all knaves the worst. This course gave 
offence to the clergy, whose influence with the civil govern- 
ment was then all-powerful. At their instigation the pub- 
lisher was kept in jail for a month ; his paper was censured 
as reflecting injuriously on the reverend ministers of the 
gospel ; and he was forbidden to print it, " except it be 
first supervised." 

3. Vexed at the arbitrary proceedings of the assembly ; 
willing to escape from a town where the good people pointed 
with horror at his freedom ; indignant, also, at the tyranny 
:>f a brother, who, as a passionate master, often beat his ap- 
prentice—Benjamin Franklin, then but seventeen years old, 
nailed clandestinely for New- York. Finding there no em- 
ployment, he crossed to Amboy, went on foot to the Dela- 
ware, and, for want of a wind, rowed in a boat from Burling- 

24 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

ton to Philadelphia. Here he arrived, bearing marks o1 
his labor at the oar, weary, hungry, and having for his 
whole stock of cash a single dollar. 

4. On the deep foundations of sobriety, frugality, and in- 
dustry, the young journeyman built his fortunes and fame : 
and he soon came to have a printing-office of his own. Toil 
ing early and late, with his own hands he set the types and 
worked at the' press ; with his own hands would trundle tc 
the office in a wheelbarrow the reams of paper he was 
to use. 

5. The Assembly of Pennsylvania respected his merit, 
and chose him its printer. He planned a neAvspaper ; and 
when he became its proprietor and editor, he fearlessly de- 
fended absolute freedom of thought and speech, and the 
inalienable power of the people. 

6. Desirous of advancing education, he proposed the 
schools of Philadelphia ; he laid the foundation of a library 
which was long the most considerable one in America ; he 
suggested the establishment of an academy, which has 
ripened into a university ; he saw the benefit of concert in 
the pursuit of science, and gathered a philosophical society 
for its advancement, 

1. When the scientific world began to investigate the 
wonders of electricity, Franklin excelled all observers in 
the marvellous simplicity and lucid exposition of his expert 
ments. It was he who first suggested the explanation oi 
thunder-gusts and the northern lights on electrical princi- 
ples, and, in the summer of 1752, going out into the fields, 
with no instrument but a kite, no companion but his son, 
established his theory by obtaining a line of connection! 
with a thunder-cloud. 

8. Nor did he cease till he made the lightning a house- 
hold pastime, taught his family to catch the subtle fluid in 
its inconceivably rapid leaps between the earth and the sky, 
and compelled it to give warning of its passage by the harm- 
less ringing of bells. 


9. With placid tranquillity, Benjamin Franklin looked 
quietly and deeply into the secrets of nature. His clear un- 
derstanding was never perverted by passion or corrupted 
by the pride of theory. Loving truth, without prejudice and 
without bias, he discerned intuitively the identity of the 
laws of nature with those of which humanity is conscious ; 
so that his mind was like a mirror, in which the universe, 
as it reflected itself, revealed her laws. 

10. His affections were of a calm intensity ; in all his 
career the love of man gained the mastery over personal in- 
terest. He had not the imagination which inspires the bard 
or kindles the orator ; but an exquisite propriety, parsimo- 
nious of ornaments, gave ease of expression and graceful 
simplicity even to his most careless writings. 

11. In life, also, his tastes were delicate. Indifferent to 
the pleasures of the table, he relished the delights of music 
and harmony. His blandness of temper, his modesty, the 
benignity of his manners, made him the favorite of intelli- 
gent society ; and with healthy cheerfulness he derived 
pleasure from books, from philosophy, from conversa- 
tion — now calmly administering consolation to the sorrow- 
ing, now indulging in the expression of light-hearted 

12. Never professing enthusiasm, never making a parade 
of sentiment, his practical wisdom was sometimes mis- 
taken for the offspring of selfish prudence ; yet his hope was 
steadfast, like that hope which rests on the Rock of Ages ; 
and his conduct was as unerring as though the light that 
led him was a light from heaven. 

13. He never anticipated action by theories of self-sacri- 
ficing virtue ; and yet, in the moments of intense activity, 
he, from the highest abodes of ideal truth, brought down, 
and applied to the affairs of life, the sublimest principles of 
goodness, as noiselessly and unostentatiously as became the 
man who, with a kite and hempen string, drew the light- 
ning from the skies. Bancroft. 



sterling's southern fourth reader. 

8. Inconceivably. 

9. Tranquillity. 

Sp>ell and define- 



Intensity. 12. Enthusiasm 

Parsimonious. Offspring. 

Relished. 13. Abodes. 


Spell and define — ■ 

1. At-test', to bear witness to. 
3. Ac'tion, a claim made before 
a court. 
As-si'zes, a court of justice. 

6. Plain'tiff, tlie person who 

commences a suit at court. 

7. Pre-ca'ri-ous, uncertain. 
Ju'ry-man, one who serves on 

a jury, and whose business 
it is to hear the evidence and 
decide which party is right 
in any given case. 
Ex-cept', to object. 
10. Dex'trous, skilful, artful. 

Ad-duced', brought forward In 

11. Pleader, one that argues in a 

court of justice. 

De-posed', gave evidence on 

Ver'dict, the decision of a jury 
concerning the matter refer- 
red to them. 

12. Fore'man, the chief man of a 


14. De-mon-stra'tion, certain 


15. Soph'ist-ry, false reasoning. 


1. A gentleman who possessed an estate worth about 
five hundred a year, in the eastern part of England, hadi 
two sons. The eldest being of a rambling disposition, went 
abroad. After several years, his father died ; when the 
younger son, destroying his will, seized upon the estate. 
He gave out that his elder brother was dead, and bribed 
false witnesses to attest the truth of it. 

2. In the course of time, the elder brother returned ; but 
came home in destitute circumstances. His younger broth- 
er repulsed him with scorn, and told him that he was an im- 
postor and a cheat. He asserted that his real brother was 
dead long ago ; and he could bring witnesses to prove it. 


The poor fellow, having neither money nor friends, was in 
a sad situation. He went round the parish making com- 
plaints, and, at last, to a lawyer, who, when he had heard 
the poor man's story, replied : " You have nothing to give 
me. If I undertake your cause and lose it, it will bring me 
into disgrace, as all the wealth and evidence are on your 
brother's side. 

3. " However, I will undertake it on this condition : you 
shall enter into an obligation to pay me one thousand guin- 
eas, if I gain the estate for you. If I lose it, I know the 
consequences ; and I venture with my eyes open." Accord- 
ingly, he entered an action against the younger brother, 
wlfich was to be tried at the next general assizes at Chelms- 
ford, in Essex. 

4. The lawyer, having engaged in the cause of the young 
man, and being stimulated by the prospect of a thousand 
guineas, set his wits to work to contrive the best method to 
gain his end. At last he hit upon this happy thought, that 
he would consult the first judge of his age, Lord Chief- 
Justice Hale. Accordingly, he hastened up to London, and 
laid open the cause, and all its circumstances. The Judge, 
who was a great lover of justice, heard the case attentively, 
and promised him all the assistance in his power. 

5. The lawyer having taken leave, the Judge contrived 
matters so as to finish all his business at the King's Bench be- 
fore the assizes began at Chelmsford. When within a short 
distance of the place, he dismissed his man and horse, and 
sought a single house. He found one occupied by a miller. 
After some conversation, and making himself quite agree- 
able, he proposed to the miller to change clothes with him. 
As the Judge had a very good suit on, the man had no rea- 
son to object. 

6. Accordingly the Judge shifted from top to toe, and 
put on a complete suit of the miller's best. Armed with a 
miller's hat and shoes and stick, he walked to Chelmsford, 
and procured good lodging, suitable for the assizes that 


should come on next day. When the trials came on, he 
walked like an ignorant country fellow, backward and for- 
ward along the county hall. He observed narrowly what 
passed around him ; and when the court began to fill, he 
found out the poor fellow who was the plaintiff. 

V. As soon as he came into the hall, the miller drew up 
to him. "Honest friend," said he, "how is your cause 
like to go to-day ?" " Why, my cause is in a very preca- 
rious situation, and, if I lose it, I am ruined for life." 
" Well, honest friend," replied the miller, " will you take 
my advice ? I will let you into a secret, which perhaps 
you do not know ; every Englishman has the right and priv- 
ilege to except against any one juryman out of the whole 
twelve ; now do you insist upon your privilege, without 
giving a reason why, and, if possible, get me chosen in his 
room, and I will do you all the service in my power." 

8. Accordingly, when the clerk had called over the names 
of the jurymen, the plaintiff excepted to one of them. The 
judge on the bench was highly offended with this liberty. 
" What do you mean," said he, " by excepting against that 
gentleman ?" " I mean, my lord, to assert my privilege as 
an Englishman, without giving a reason why." 

9. The judge, who had been highly bribed, in order to 
conceal it by a show of candor, and having a confidence in 
the superiority of his party, said, " Well, sir, as you claim 
your privilege in one instance, I will grant it. Whom 
would you wish to have in the room of that man except- 
ed ?" After a short time, taken in consideration, " My 
lord," said he, " I wish to have an honest man chosen in ;" 
and looking round the court — " my lord, there is that mil- 
ler in the court ; we will have him, if you please." Accord- 
i n gly> tne miller was chosen in. 

10. As soon as the clerk of the court had given them all 
their oaths, a little dexterous fellow came into the apartment, 
and slipped ten golden guineas into the hands of eleven 
jurymen, and gave the miller but five. He observed that 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 29 

they were all bribed as well as himself, and said to his next 
neighbor, in a soft whisper, " How much have you got ?" 
" Ten pieces," said he. But he concealed what he had got 
himself. The cause was opened by the plaintiff's counsel ; 
and all the scraps of evidence they could pick up were ad- 
duced in his favor. 

1 1 . The younger brother was provided with a great num- 
ber of witnesses and pleaders, all plentifully bribed, as well 
as the judge. The witnesses deposed, that they were in the 
self-same country when the brother died, and saw him bur- 
ied. The counselors pleaded upon this accumulated evi- 
dence; and everything went with a full tide in favor of the 
younger brother. The judge summed up the evidence with 
great gravity and deliberation ; " and now, gentlemen of the 
jury," said he, " lay your heads together, and bring in your 
verdict as you shall deem most just." 

12. They waited but for a few minutes, before they de- 
termined in favor of the younger brother. The judge said, 
" Gentlemen, are you agreed ? and who shall speak for 
you ?" " We are all agreed, my lord," replied one, " and 
our foreman shall speak for us." " Hold, my lord," replied 
the miller ; " we are not all agreed." " Why ?" said the 
judge, in a very surly manner, " what's the matter with 
you ? What reasons have you for disagreeing ?" 

13. "I have several reasons, my lord," replied the other ; 
" the first is, they have given to all these gentlemen of the 
jury ten broad pieces of gold, and to me but five ; which, 
you know, is not fair. Besides, I have many objections to 
make to the false reasonings of the pleaders, and the contra- 
dictory evidence of the witnesses." Upon this, the miller 
began a discourse, which discovered such a vast penetration 
of judgment, such extensive knowledge of law, and was 
expressed with such manly and energetic eloquence, that it 
astonished the judge and the whole court. 

14. As he was going on with his powerful demonstra- 
tions, the judge, in great surprise, stopped him. " Where 


sterling's southern fourth reader. 

did you come from, and who are you ?" " I came from 
Westminster Hall," replied the miller; " my name is Mat- 
thew Hale ; I am Lord Chief-Justice of the King's Bench. I 
have observed the iniquity of your proceedings this day ; 
therefore, come down from a seat which you are nowise 
worthy to hold. You are one of the corrupt parties in this 
iniquitous business. I will come up this moment and try 
the cause all over again." 

15. Accordingly, Sir Matthew went up, with his miller's 
dress and hat on, began the trial from its very commence- 
ment, and searched every circumstance of truth and false- 
hood. He evinced the elder brother's title to the estate, 
from the contradictory evidence of the witnesses, and the 
false reasoning of the pleaders ; unravelled all the sophistry 
to the very bottom, and gained a complete victory in favor 
of truth and justice. Anonymous. 

1. Rambling. 

2. Situation. 

3. Obligation. 

4. Stimulated. 

Spell and define- 

5. Contrived. 

6. Procured. 
1. Ruined. 
8. Privilege. 

10. Dexterous. 

11. Accumulated. 

15. Evinced. 


Spell and define — 

1. Gleam'ing, shining. 
SnEEN, brightness, splendor. 

2. Bea'con, a light to guide. 
Pha'ros, an island near Alex- 
andria in Egypt with a fa- 
mous light-house on it. 

3. Surf, waves breaking on the 
Shivered, broken into pieces. 
5. Dap'pling, variegating with 
Pale, to diminish in brightness. 


1. Life lies before you, young man, all gleaming and 
flashing in the light of your early hopes, like a summer sea. 
But bright though it seems in the silvery sheen of its far- 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 31 

off beauty, it is a place where many a sunken rock and many 
a treacherous quicksand, have made shipwreck of immortal 
hopes. And calm though its polished surface may sleep, 
without a ripple or a shade, it shall yet he overhung to 
you by the darkness of the night and the wildness of the 

2. And oh ! if, in these lonely and perilous scenes of your 
voyage, you were left without a landmark or a beacon, how 
sad and fearful were your lot. But, blessed be God ! you 
are not. Far up on the Rock of Ages, there streams a light 
from the Eternal Word ; the light that David saw, and re- 
joiced ; the light that Paul saw, and took courage ; the light 
that has guided the ten thousand times ten thousand, that 
have already reached the happy isles of the blest. There 
it stands, the Pharos of this dark and stormy scene, with a 
flame that was kindled in heaven, and that comes down to 
us, reflected from many a glorious image of prophet, apostle, 
and martyr. 

3. Many a rash and daring spirit has sought to put out 
this light, and on the pinion of a reckless daring has furiously 
dashed itself against it, but has only fallen stunned and 
blackened in the surf below. Many a storm of hate and 
fury has dashed wildly against it, but when its fiercest shock 
has spent its rage, and the proud waves rolled all shivered 
and sullenly back, the beacon has still gleamed on high and 
clear above the raging waters. 

4. Another storm is now dashing against it, and another 
cloud of mist is flung around it ; but when these also shall 
have expended their might, the rock and the beacon shall be 
unharmed still. Philosophy and human wisdom may neg- 
lect this light from heaven, and walk by the sparks of 
their own kindling ; but this light can never be put out, even 
though these proud wanderers should have it at God's hand 
to lie down at last in sorrow and gloom. 

5. "We have a more sure word of prophecy, whereunto 
ye do well that ye take heed, as unto a light that shineth in 


sterling's southern fourth reader. 

a dark place, until the day dawn and the day-star arise in 
your hearts." When this promised time shall have come, 
when the dappling dawn shall have broadened and bright- 
ened into the perfect day, then, and not till then, shall the 
light of this sure beacon pale before the brightness of that 
day, whose morning is heaven, and whose noontide is eter- 
nity. But until then, in spite of the false lights that flash 
upon our track, and gleam fitfully from billow to billow, 
our steady gaze and our earnest heed shall be to this sure 
word of prophecy, and the motto we shall ever unfurl to 
the winds shall be, " the Bible— the Bible the light-house 
of the world." Rev. T. V. Moore, D.D. 

1. Polished. 

2. Reflected. 

/Spell and define- 

3. Pinion. 

4. Expended. 


lesson v. 

Spell and define — 

1. Re-morse', keen pain of con- 4. O-ver-whelmed', crushed, borne 

De-void', destitute. 

2. Re-sound'ing, echoing. 

3. Em'blem, representation. 
Un-a-vail'ing, useless, inef- 


5. Fer'vent-ly, earnestly, eager 

6. Thresh'old, entrance, begin- 



1. It was New-Tear's night. An aged man was stand- 
ing at the window. He raised his mournful eyes toward 
the deep blue sky, where the stars were floating like white 
lilies on the surface of a clear, calm lake. Then he cast 
them on the earth, where few more hopeless beings than 
himself now moved toward their certain goal, the tomb. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 33 

Already he had passed sixty of the stages which lead to it, 
and had brought from his journey nothing but errors and 
remorse. His health was destroyed, his mind vacant, his 
heart sorrowful, and his old age devoid of comfort. 

2. The days of his youth rose up in a vision before him, 
and he recalled the solemn moment when his father had 
placed him at the entrance of two roads, one leading into 
a peaceful, sunny land, covered with a fertile harvest, and 
resounding with soft, sweet songs ; while the other conduct- 
ed the wanderer into a deep, dark cave, whence there was 
no issue ; where poison flowed instead of water, and where 
serpents hissed and crawled. He looked toward the sky, and 
cried out in his agony, " O youth, return ! O my father ! 
place me once more at the entrance of life, that I may 
choose the better way !" 

3. But his father and the days of his youth had both 
passed away. He saw wandering lights, which were the 
days of his wasted life, float far away over dark marshes, 
and then disappear. He saw a star fall from heaven and 
vanish in darkness. It was an emblem of himself, and the 
sharp arrows of unavailing remorse struck him to his heart. 
Then he remembered his early companions, who entered 
upon life with him, but who, having trod the paths of vir- 
tue and of labor, were now happy and honored on this 
New-Year's night. 

4. The clock in the high church-tower struck, and the 
sound, falling on his ear, recalled his parents' early love for 
him their erring son, the lessons they had taught him, and 
the prayers they had offered up in his behalf. Over- 
whelmed with shame and grief, he dared no longer look to- 
ward that heaven where his father dwelt; his dark eyes 
dropped tears, and with a despairing effort he cried aloud, 
" Come back, my early days ! come back !" 

5. And his youth did return ; for all this was but a dream 
which visited his slumbers on New-Year's night. He was 
still young, and his faults alone were real. He thanked 


34 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

God fervently that time was still his own— that he had not 
yet entered the deep, dark cavern, but that he was free to 
tread the road leading to the peaceful land where sunny 
harvests wave. 

6. Ye who still linger on the threshold of life, doubting 
which path to choose, remember that when years are passed, 
and your feet stumble on the dark mountain, you will cry 
bitterly, but cry in vain, " O youth, return ! Oh, give me 
back my early days !" Richter. 

1. Mournful. 

2. Solemn. 

Spell and define — 

2, Fertile. 

3. Marshes. 

4. Erring. 

5. Cavern. 

6. Doubting. 


Spell and define — 
Fag'ots, bundles of sticks and 7. Com-pli-ca'tion, the act of min- 

together of several 

small branches used for fuel 
Prat'tle, trifling talk. 
Dis'si-pate, to scatter, to dis- 
2. Puny, small and weak 
4. Pil'grim-age, the journey of 
human life. 


Sym'pa-thtes, compassion. 

Gushed, flowed copiously. 

Man'na, food miraculously pro- 
vided by God for the Israel- 


1. It was Saturday night, and the widow of the Pine 
Cottage sat by her blazing fagots, with her five tattered 
children at her side, endeavoring, by listening to the artless- 
ness of their prattle, to dissipate the heavy gloom that 
pressed upon her mind. For a year, her own feeble hand 
had provided for her helpless family, for she had no sup- 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 35 

porter : she thought of no friend in all the wide, unfriendly 
world around. 

2. But that mysterious Providence, the wisdom of whose 
ways is above human comprehension, had visited her with 
wasting sickness, and her little means had become exhaust- 
ed. It was now, too, midwinter, and the snow lay heavy 
and deep through all the surrounding forests, while storms 
still seemed gathering in the heavens, and the driving wind 
roared amid the neighboring pines, and rocked her puny 

3. The last herring smoked upon the coals before her ; it 
was the only article of food she possessed, and no wonder 
her forlorn, desolate state brought up in her lone bosom all 
the anxieties of a mother, when she looked upon her chil- 
dren ; and no wonder, forlorn as she was, if she suffered the 
heart-swellings of despair to rise, even though she knew that 
He whose promise is to the widow and to the orphan can- 
not forget His word, 

4. Providence had, many years before, taken from her 
her eldest son, who went from his forest home to try his 
fortune on the high-seas, since which she had heard no tid- 
ings of him ; and, more recently, the hand of death had de- 
prived her of the companion and staff of her earthly pil- 
grimage, in the person of her husband. Yet to this hour 
she had been upborne : she had not only been able to provide 
for her little flock, but had never lost an opportunity of 
ministering to the wants of the miserable and destitute. 

5. The indolent may well bear with poverty, while the 
ability to gain sustenance remains. The individual who 
has but his own wants to supply, may suffer with fortitude 
the winter of want ; his affections are not wounded, his 
heart not wrung. The most desolate in populous cities may 
hope, for charity has not quite closed her heart, and shut 
her eyes on misery, 

6. But the industrious mother of helpless and dependent 
children, far from the reach of human charity, has none of 

36 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

these to console her. And such a one was the widow of. the 
Pine Cottage ; but as she bent over the fire, and took up the 
last scanty remnant of food, to spread before her children, 
her spirits seemed to brighten up as by some sudden and 
mysterious impulse, and Cowper's beautiful lines came un- 
called across her mind : 

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, 

But trust Him for His grace ; 
Behind a frowning providence 

He hides a smiling face. 

1, The smoked herring was scarcely laid upon the table 
when a gentle rap at the door, and the loud barking of a 
dog, attracted the attention of the family. The children 
flew to open it, and a weary traveller, in tattered garments, 
and apparently indifferent health, entered and begged a 
lodging and a mouthful of food. Said he, " It is now 
twenty-four hours since I tasted bread." The widow's heart 
bled anew as under a fresh complication of distresses ; for 
her sympathies lingered not around her fireside. She hesi- 
tated not even now ; rest and a share of all she had, she 
proffered to the stranger. " We shall not be forsaken," 
said she, " or suffer deeper for an act of charity." 

8. The traveller drew near the board, but when he saw 
the scanty fare, he raised his eyes toward heaven with 
astonishment : « And is this all your store ?" said he, " and 
a share of this do you offer to one you know not ? then 
never saw I charity before ! But, madam," said he, continu- 
ing, " do you not wrong your children by giving a part of 
your last mouthful to a stranger ?" 

9. " Ah," said the poor widow, and the tear-drops gushed 
into her eyes as she said it, "I have a boy, a darling son 
somewhere on the face of the wide world, unless Heaven has 
taken him away ; and I only act toward you as I would that 
others should act toward him. God, who sent manna from 
heaven, can provide for us as He did for Israel ; and how 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 


should I this night offend Him, if my son should be a wan- 
derer, destitute as you, and He should have provided for 
him a home, even poor as this, were I to turn you unre- 
lieved away?" 

10. The widow ended, and the stranger, springing from 
his seat, clasped her in his arms : " God indeed has provid- 
ed your son a home, and has given him wealth to reward 
the goodness of his benefactress: my mother! O my 
mother !" It was her long lost son, returned to her bosom 
from the Indies. He had chosen that disguise that he might 
the more completely surprise his family ; and never was 
surprise more perfect, or followed by a sweeter cup of 


11. That humble residence in the forest was exchanged 
for one comfortable, and indeed beautiful, in the valley ; 
and the widow lived long with her dutiful son, in the en- 
joyment of worldly plenty, and in the delightful employ* 
ments of virtue : and at this day the passer-by is pointed to 
the willow that spreads its branches above her grave. 

Spell and define — 
.. Tattered. 3. Forlorn. 6. Console. 

Artlessness. 4. Providence. 1. Proffered. 

5. Mysterious. Recently. 9. Destitute. 

Exhausted. 5. Sustenance. 10. Benefactress. 


Spell and define — 

Stal'wart, brave, strong. 
Sa'bre, sword. 
Remnant, remaining. 
Fray, fight. 

4. Trailed', drawn along the 


5. Broid'ered, ornamented with 

7. Ex-pir'ing, dying. 

38 sterling's southern fourth reader. 


1. 'Twas amidst a scene of blood, 
On a bright autumnal day, 
When misfortune, like a flood, 
Swept our fairest hopes away ; 
5 Twas on Savannah's plain, 
On the spot we love so well, 
Amid heaps of gallant slain, 
That the daring Jasper fell ! 

2. He had borne him in the fight 
Like a soldier in his prime — 
Like a bold and stalwart knight, 
Of the glorious olden time ; 
And unharmed by sabre-blow, 
And untouched by leaden ball, 
He had battled with the foe 
Till he heard the trumpet's call. 

3. But he turned him at the sound, 
For he knew the strife was o'er — 
That in vain on freedom's ground 
Had her children shed their gore ; 
So he slowly turned away 

"With the remnant of the band, 
Who amid the bloody fray 
Had escaped the foeman's hand. 

4. But his banner caught his eye, 
As it trailed upon the dust, 
And he saw his comrade die, 
Ere he yielded up his trust, 

" To the rescue !" loud he cried, 
" To the rescue, gallant men !" 
And he dashed into the tide 
Of the battle-stream again. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 39 

5. And then fierce the contest rose, 
O'er its field of broidered gold, 
And the blood of friends and foes 
Stained alike its silken fold ; 
But, unheeding wound or blow 
He has snatched it 'midst the strife, 
He has borne that flag away — 
But its ransom is his life ! 

6. "To my father take my sword," 
Thus the dying hero said ; 

" Tell him that my latest word 
Was a blessing on his head ; 
That when death had seized my frame, 
And uplifted was his dart, 
That I ne'er forgot the name 
That was dearest to my heart." 

*l. " And tell her whose favor gave 
This fair banner to our band, 
That I died its folds to save 
From the foe's polluting hand ; 
And let all my comrades hear, 
When my form lies cold in death, 
That their friend remained sincere 
To his last expiring breath." 

8. It was thus that Jasper fell 
'Neath that bright autumnal sky. 
Has a stone been raised to tell 
Where he laid him down to die ? 
To the rescue, spirits bold ! 
To the rescue, gallant men ! 
Let the marble page unfold 
All his daring deeds again. 

R. M. Charlton. 


sterling's southern fourth reader. 

4. Comrade. 

5. Unheeding. 

Spell and define- 

7. Favor. 

8. Autumnal. 


Whip up, Boys.— Don't lag behind. Study hard. Lear: 
every thing you can. Now is the seed-time. You will wan 
the harvest after a while. Hear what Walter Scott says 
" It is with the deepest regret that I recollect in my max 
hood the opportunities of learning which I neglected in m 
youth, that through every part of my literary career I ha| 
felt pinched and hampered by my own ignorance ; and 
would this moment give half the reputation I have had tli 
good fortune to acquire, if, by doing so, I could rest th 
remaining part upon a sound foundation of learning an 


Spell and define — 

1. De-test'a-ble, extremely hate- 4. U-sukp'ing, seizing witho 

5. Strat'a-GEm; artifice, deceit. 
7. Grim, fierce, frightful. 
9. Blink' ing, looking unsteadil 
10. Chafed, fretted. 


2. Gen-eb-os'i-ty, nobleness. 
Schemes, plans. 

3. Ac-ces'sion, coming to the 



1. At two-and-thirty years of age, in the year 1200, Jol 
became King of England. His pretty little nephew, j 
thur, had the best claim to the throne ; but John seized 1 
treasure, and made fine promises to the nobility, and s 
himself crowned at Westminster within a few weeks aft 
his brother Richard's death. I doubt whether the cr<r 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 41 

could possibly have been put upon the head of a meaner 
coward, or a more detestable villain, if the country had 
been searched from end to end to find him out. 
| 2. The French king, Philip, refused to acknowledge the 
right of John to his new dignity, and declared in favor of 
Arthur. You must not suppose that he had any generosity 
of feeling for the fatherless boy ; it merely suited his ambi- 
tious schemes to oppose the king of England. So John and 
the French king went to war about Arthur. 

3. He was a handsome boy, at the time, only twelve 
years old. He was not born when his father, Geoffrey, had 
his brains trampled out at the tournament ; and, besides the 
misfortune of never having known his father's guidance and 
protection, he had the additional misfortune to have a fool- 
ish mother, (Constance by name,) lately married to her third 
husband. She took Arthur, upon John's accession, to the 
French king, who pretended to be very much his friend, 
and made him a knight, and promised him his daughter in 
marriage ; b-ut who cared so little about him in reality, that, 
finding it his interest to make peace with King John for 
i time, he did so, without the least consideration for the 
aoor little prince, and heartlessly sacrificed all his interests. 

4. Young Arthur, for two years afterward, lived quiet- 
r , and in the course of that time his mother died. But the 
rench king then finding it his interest to quarrel with King 

Tohn, once more made Arthur his pretence,and invited the or- 
phan boy to court. " You know your rights, prince," said 
he French king, " and you would like to be a king. Is it 
Lot so ?" " Truly," said Prince Arthur, " I should 
greatly like to be a king." "Then," said Philip, "you 
hall have two hundred gentlemen who are knights of mine, 
nd with them you shall go to win back the provinces be- 
3nging to you, of which your uncle, the usurping king of 
England, has taken possession. I myself meanwhile w T ill 
ead a force against him in Normandy." 

5. Prince Arthur went to attack the town of Mirebeau, 

42 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

because his grandmother, Eleanor, was living there, and 
because the knights said, " Prince, if you can take her pris- 
oner, you will be able to bring the king, your uncle, to 
terms !" But she was not to be easily taken. She was old 
enough by this time— eighty ; but she was as full of strata- 
gem as she was full of years and wickedness. Receiving 
intelligence of young Arthur's approach, she shut herself up 
in a high tower, and encouraged her soldiers to defend it 
like men. Prince Arthur with his little army besieged the 
high tower. King John, hearing how matters stood, came 
up to the rescue with his army. So here was a strange 
family party ! The boy-prince besieging his grandmother, 
and his uncle besie^ino: him ! 

6. This position of affairs did not last long. One sum-' 
mer night, King John, by treachery, got his men into the 
town, surprised Prince Arthur's forces, took two hundred; 
of his knights, and seized the prince himself in his bed. 
The knights were put in heavy irons, and driven away in I 
open carts, drawn by bullocks, to various dungeons, where 
they were most inhumanly treated, and where some of them i 
were starved to death. Prince Arthur was sent to the cas- 
tle of Falaise. 

1. One day, while he was in prison at that castle, mourn- 
fully thinking it strange that one so young should be in so 
much trouble, and looking out of the small window in the 
deep, dark wall, at the summer sky and the birds, the door- 
was softly opened, and he saw his uncle, the king, standing 
in the shadow of the archway, looking very grim. 

8. " Arthur," said the king, with his wicked eye more on 
the stone floor than on his nephew, " will you not trust to 
the gentleness, the friendship, and the truthfulness of your 
loving uncle ?" " I will tell my loving uncle that," replied 
the boy, " when he does me right. Let him restore to me 
my kingdom of England, and then come to me and ask the 
question." The king looked at him and went out. " Keep.* 
that boy close prisoner," said he to the warden of the cas- 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 43 

tie. Then the king took secret counsel with the worst of 
his nobles, how' the prince was to be got rid of. Some 
said, " Put out his eyes, and keep him iu prison, as Robert 
of Normandy was kept." Others said, "Have him 
stabbed." Others, "Have him hanged." Others, "Have 
him poisoned." 

9. King John, feeling that in any case, whatever was 
done afterward, it would be a satisfaction to his mind to 
have those handsome eyes burnt out, that had looked at 
him so proudly, while his own royal eyes were blinking at 
the stone floor, sent certain ruffians to Falaise to blind the 
boy with red-hot irons. But Arthur so pathetically entreat- 
ed them, and shed such piteous tears, and so appealed to 
Hubert De Bourg, the warden of the castle, who had a love 
for him, and was a merciful, tender man, that Hubert could 
not bear it. To his eternal honor, he prevented the torture 
from being performed ; and at his own risk, sent the sav- 
ages away. 

10. The chafed and disappointed king bethought him- 
self of the stabbing suggestion next : and, with his shuf- 
fling manner and his cruel face, proposed it to William de 
Bray. " I am a gentleman, and not an executioner," said 
William de Bray, and left the presence with disdain. But 
it was not difficult for a king to hire a murderer in those 
lays. King John found one for his money, and sent him 
lown to the castle of Falaise. " On what errand dost thou 
3ome ?" said Hubert to this fellow. " To dispatch young 
Arthur," he returned. "Go back to him who sent thee," 
mswered Hubert, " and say that I will do it." 

11. King John, very well knowing that Hubert would 
lever do it, but that he evasively sent this reply to save the 
►rince or gain time, dispatched messengers to convey the 
oung prisoner to the castle of Rouen. Arthur was soon 
orced from the kind Hubert— of whom he had never stood 
n greater need than then — carried away by night, and 
odged in his new prison ; where, through his grated win- 



dow, lie could hear the deep waters of the river Seine ripi 
pling against the stone wall below. 

12. One dark night, as he lay sleeping, dreaming, perhaps, 
of rescue by those unfortunate gentlemen who were obscure j 
ly suffering and dying in his cause, he was roused, and bid! 
den by his jailer to come down the staircase to the foot of 
the tower. He hurriedly dressed himself and obeyed 
When they came to the bottom of the winding stairs, and 
the night air from the river blew upon their faces, the jailei 
trod upon his torch, and put it out. Then Arthur, in th( 
darkness, was hurriedly drawn into a solitary boat ; and ir 
that boat he found his uncle and one other man. 

13. He knelt to them, and prayed them not to murdei 
him. Deaf to his entreaties, they stabbed him, and sun! 
his body in the river with heavy stones. When the spring 
morning broke, the tower door was closed, the boat wasi 
gone, the river sparkled on its way, and never more was 
any trace of the poor boy beheld by mortal eyes. 

Charles Dickens, 

Spell and define — 

1. Nobility. 6. Treachery. Disdain. 

3. Tournament. 8. Warden. 11. Dispatched. 

4. P.-etence. 9. Pathetically. 12. Solitary. 

5. Besieged. 10. Shuffling. 13. Trace. 


Spell and define — 

1. Recompense, reward. 

2. Se'poy, a native of India em- 

ployed as a soldier. 

3. Strained, pressed. 

5. Fount, a well, a spring. 

6. Crys'tal, clear. 

7. Crest, spreading top. 

8. Re-freshed', relieved, revived. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 45 

" A Fukeer, in the late insurrection in India, came to one of the 
mission stations, bringing with him an English babe, whose parents 
bad probably been slain in the general massacre of the Europeans 
m refused all pecuniary compensation, but begged that a well might 
>e dug to his memory." 

1. Keep, keep thy treasures— not for these 
I brought the fair-haired child to thee ; 

Keep, keep thy silver— offer not 
A recompense like that to me. 

2. I found it in the Sepoy's track, 
Beneath the fierce and burning sky, 

Still clinging to its mother's breast, 
And could not leave it there to die ; 

3. But tore it from the arms which, stiff 
And cold, still strained it to her heart ; 

And cruel e'en in death it seemed, 
The mother from her child to part. 

4. Then keep thy gold and take the babe, 
The blue-eyed babe, let it be thine ; 

To keep it as my own, I know, 
Would only cost its life and mine. 

5. And if for this one kindly deed 
Thy bounty would a gift bestow ; 

Then to my memory let a fount— 
A cooling stream of water flow ! 

6. Go on some desert's burning waste 
And dig for me a crystal well, 

And let it to the wanderer faint 
The story of the Fukeer tell. 



7. And when the palm-tree's tufted crest 

Shall cooling shadows round it throw, 
He'll stoop and bathe his weary limbs 
Within the purling stream below ; 

8. Will slake his thirst and rise refreshed, 

Though dying to the fount he came ; 
And ere he leaves will blessings breathe 
Upon the kindly Fukeer's name. 

Mary Ayer Miller. 

1. Treasures. 

Spell and define — 

2. Clinging. 
5. Bounty. 
V. Purling. 

8. Slake. 


Spell and define — 

2. Suc'cor, help, assist. 
6. Shek'el, a Jewish coin, worth 
from 50 to CO cents. 

7. Com'passed, surrounded. 

8. Dale, a low place between hills 

9. Ti'dings, news, intelligence. 


1. And David numbered the people that were with him,! 
and set captains of thousands and captains of hundreds over 
them. And David sent forth a third part of the people 
under the hand of Joab, and a third part under the hand of 1 
Abishai the son of Zeruiah, JoaVs brother, and a third part' 
under the haqd of Ittai the Gittite. 

2. And the king said unto the people, I will surely go 
forth with you myself also. But the people answered, Thou 
shalt not go forth : for if we flee away, they will not care 
for us ; neither if half of us die, will they care for us : but 
now thou art worth ten thousand of us : therefore now it is 


better that thou succor us out of the city. And the kino- 
said unto them, What seemeth you best, I will do. 

3. And the king stood by the gate-side, and all the peo- 
ple came out by hundreds and by thousands. And the 
king commanded Joab and Abishai and Ittai, saying, Deal 
gently for my sake with the young man, even with Ab- 
salom. And all the people heard when the king gave all 
the captains charge concerning Absalom. 

4. So the people went out into the field against Israel : 
and the battle was in the wood of Ephraim ; where the peo- 
ple of Israel were slain before the servants of David, and 
there was there a great slaughter that day of twenty thou- 
sand men. For the battle was there scattered over the face 
of all the country : and the wood devoured more people 
that day than the sword devoured. 

5. And Absalom met the servants of David. And Absa- 
lom rode upon a mule, and the mule went under the thick 
boughs of a great oak, and his head caught hold of the oak, 
and he was taken up between the heaven and the earth ; and 
the mule that was under him, went away. 

6. And a certain man saw it, and told Joab, and said, Be- 
hold, I saw Absalom hanged in an oak. And Joab said 
unto the man that told him, And, behold, thou sawest him, 
and why didst thou not smite him there to the ground ? 
and I would have given thee ten shekels of silver and a 
girdle. And the man said unto Joab, Though I should re- 
ceive a thousand shekels of silver in my hand, yet would I 
not put forth my hand against the king's son : for in our 
hearing, the king charged thee and Abishai and Ittai, say- 
ing, Beware that none touch the young man Absalom. 
Otherwise I should have wrought falsehood against mine 
own life : for there is no matter hid from the kins:, and thou 
thyself wouldest have set thyself against me. 

1. Then said Joab, I may not tarry thus with thee. And 
he took three darts in his hand, and thrust them through 
the heart of Absalom, while he was yet alive in the midst 


48 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

of the oak. And ten young men, that bare Joab's armor, 
compassed about and smote Absalom, and slew him. And 
Joab blew the trumpet, and the people returned from pur- 
suing after Israel : for Joab held back the people. 

8. And they took Absalom, and cast him into a great pit 
in the wood, and laid a very great heap of stones upon him ; 
and all Israel fled every one to his tent. Now Absalom in 
his lifetime had taken and reared up for himself a pillar, 
which is in the king's dale : for he said, I have no son to 
keep my name in remembrance : and he called the pillar 
after his own name : and it is called unto this day, Absa- 
lom's place. 

9. Then said Ahimaaz the son of Zadok, Let me now run, 
and bear the king tidings, how that the Lord hath avenged 
him of his enemies. And Joab said unto him, Thou shalt 
not bear tidings this day, but thou shalt bear tidings another 
day : but this day thou shalt bear no tidings, because the 
king's son is dead. Then said Joab to Cushi, Go tell the 
king what thou hast seen. And Cushi bowed himself unto 
Joab, and ran. 

10. Then said Ahimaaz the son of Zadok yet again to 
Joab, But, howsoever, let me, I pray thee, also run after; 
Cushi. And Joab said, Wherefore wilt thou run, my son, 
seeing that thou hast no tidings ready? But howsoever, 
said he, let me run. And he said unto him, Run. Then 
Ahimaaz ran by the way of the plain, and overran Cushi. 

11. And David sat between the two gates: and the 
watchman went up to the roof over the gate unto the wall, 
and lifted up his eyes, and looked, and behold a man run^ 
ning alone. And the watchman cried, and told the king. 
And the king said, If he be alone, there is tidings in his 
mouth. And he came apace, and drew near. 

12. And the watchman saw another man running: an<l 
the watchman called unto the porter, and said, Behold, 
another man running alone. And the king said, He also 
bringeth tidings. And the watchman said, Methinketh the 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 49 

running of the foremost is like the running of Ahiraaaz the 
son of Zadok. And the king said, He is a good man, and 
cometh with good tidings. 

13. And Ahimaaz called, and said unto the king, All is 
well. And he fell down to the earth upon his face before 
the king, and said, Blessed be the Lord thy God, which 
hath delivered up the men that lifted up their hand against 
my lord the king ? And the king said, Is the young man 
Absalom safe ? And Ahimaaz answered, When Joab sent 
the king's servant, and me thy servant, I saw a great tu- 
mult, but I knew not what it was. And the king said unto 
trim, Turn aside, and stand here. And he turned aside, and 
stood still. 

14. And, behold, Cushi came ; and Cushi said, Tidings, 
ny lord the king: for the Lord hath avenged thee this 
lay of all them that rose up against thee. And the king 
3aid unto Cushi, Is the young man Absalom safe ? And 
3ushi answered, The enemies of my lord the king, and 
ill that rise against thee to do thee hurt, be as that young 
nan is. 

15. And the king was much moved, and went up to the 
hamber over the gate, and wept : and as he went, thus he 
;aid, O my son Absalom ! my son, my son Absalom ! would 
,o God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son ! 


Spell and define — 

I. Concerning. 6. Smite. 9. Avenged. 
:. Slaughter. Girdle. Bowed. 

Devoured. 1. Compassed. 11. Apace. 

>. Boughs. 8. Pillar. 13. Tumult. 


50 stealing's southern fourth reader. 


Spell and define — 

1. Tre-coc'ity, early growth, ripe- 7. Her-cu'le-an, very difficult. 

ness before the usual time. 11. Con-sec'tj-tive, following ir 

2. Ru'di-ments, first principles, order. 

things to be first learned. 14. Ejst-trance'ment, a kind of 

4. De-vi'ces, contrivances. rapture or astonishment. 

5. So-lic'it-ous, anxious, very de- 19. Al-ter-na'tiqn, reciprocal 

sirous. succession. 

6, Ty'ro, a beginner. 

a mother's influence. 

1. "I was a dull boy," said Judge B in answer to 

some remarks of Mrs. Wentworth, referring to the usual 
precocity of genius, and hinting at the display which the 
learned and celebrated Judge must have made in his juvei 
nile studies — " I was a very dull boy. Till I was full nine 
years old, I dreaded the name of book and school. 

2. " It is true, I had made some progress in the rudiments 
of English, and had begun the Latin Grammar ; but this 
w r as wholly owing to the constant instruction and personal 
influence of my mother. It was only in obedience to hei 
that I attended school. I would have preferred a severe 
whipping every day of my life, if by that means I might 
have been exempted from the task of study. I was the 
drone of the school. 

3. "My mother began my education very early; I was 
her only child, and she a widow ; you may easily imagine, 
therefore, how eager she must have been for my improve- 
ment. She tried every means that love, faith, and patience 
could suggest, to instruct me in my lessons and duties. In 
the latter she was not disappointed. I may say, without 
boasting, that I was an obedient boy ; for I loved my mother 
bo well, that it was a pleasure to do her bidding. 

4. "But I could not learn my book; the fountain of; 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 51 

knowledge was, to my taste, bitter waters, and all the devices 
which ingenuity has invented to make learning easy, failed 
in my case. I had to wear the dunce-cap at school, and so 
sluggish was my mind, that I did not care a straw for the 
disgrace, till I found it made my mother weep when she 
heard of it. Indeed, I preferred to be at the foot of my class, 
for then I had no trouble about trying to keep my station ; 
and even at the opening of the school, I always took my 
place at the foot : it seemed to fall naturally to me. I was 
as contented as Diogenes in his tub. 

5 " Thus the time passed, till the winter I entered my' 
tenth year. The schoolmaster was preparing for a famous 
exhibition ; and as he knew how solicitous my mother was 
for my improvement, he called on her to ascertain if she 
thought it possible that I could take a part. She did think 
it possible ; what mother would despair of her only child ? 
She undertook to teach me the piece I was to speak. 

6. " The teacher had selected that pithy little poem, so 
appropriate for the young tyro, beginning — 

4 You'd scarce expect one of my age 
To speak in public on the stage ; 
And if I chance to fall below 
Demosthenes or Cicero, 
Don't view me with a critic's eye, 
But pass my imperfections by,' etc. 

7. " These six lines were my first lesson : and after tea, 
my mother sat down to the task of teaching it, telling me 
that I must learn to recite those six lines during that and 
the following evening. You smile, ladies, but it seemed 
a Herculean task to me, and it was only my strong affec- 
tion for my mother that would have induced me to under- 
take it. 

8. " The teacher had promised me, that, if I spoke my 
piece well, he would give me a silver medal. I cared noth- 
ing for that, till my mother drew me to her, and, as she put 

^fortlx (%avolina 

52 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

back my hair and kissed my forehead in her loving man- 
ner, said, * Oh, Robert ! how happy I shall be to see you 
come home with the medal on!' I thought then that I 
would try to obtain it. So I sat -down cheerfully to my 

9. " I recollect the scene as though it were but yesterday. 
My mother read the six lines to me a number of times over, 
and then she explained the meaning of the words. She 
told me of Demosthenes, and the efforts he made to overcome 
his natural defects. I remember asking her if I should get 
some pebbles to hold in my mouth ; whether it would do 
me any good ; and how happy her laugh rang out at my 
witticism. Then she told me of Cicero, and of the great 
services he rendered his country, by his oratory and learning, 
thus endeavoring to awaken my mind to some effort of imi- 

10. "I like to listen to stories, and it was in this manner 
that I had been taught what little I knew ; for I could not 
comprehend words. I wanted images, and these my 
mother, by her manner, and the comparisons she would 
draw from familiar things, could succeed in picturing to my 
imagination. In books, I found nothing but words, and those 
I could not remember. But I am growing tedious, I fear, 
as that evening was to my mother and myself. 

11. "For two long hours she patiently taught me. I 
read over the lines a hundred times ; I recited them after 
her; sometimes I would repeat two or three consecutive 
words, and I could see her face brighten with hope ; but 
when she took the book for the last recitation, and after I 
had been studying most intently for some minutes, I could 
not repeat a single word. I can recollect now my sensation 
at that time ; it seemed to me that I knew all that my mother $ 
wished me to say ; but a kind of wavering shadow would 
come between me and my lesson, and make all the words 
indistinct, and my will had no power to control these 

stekling's southern fourth reader. 53 

12. "When my mother had vainly tried every possible 
method to make me recollect the first two lines, she was 
quite overcome. I believe her hope of my intellect w T as 
extinguished, and that she felt for the first time, what all 
who knew me had predicted, that I should be a dunce. It 
must be a terrible trial for a sensible mother to think that 
her only child is a fool. She burst into a passion of tears, 
covered her face with her hands, and sank on her knees 
beside the sofa where we were sitting. 

13. "I started up in amazement at her grief, for I had 
never before seen her so moved. She was habitually calm as 
a summer's morning ; but now her sobs and groans seemed 
bursting her heart. My knees trembled, and a burning heat 
rushed over my frame. At that moment, something seemed 
to open in my head, and a light — I can compare it to noth- 
ing else — seemed to be let into my brain. 

14. "I saw, or felt — that, perhaps, would be more proper 
every word of the lesson I had been learning as though it 

were graven on a pen of fire. I knew that I could repeat 
my lesson ; and many other lessons that I had vainly tried 
to learn, now all were present to my memory in perfect 
arrangement. I stood in a state of entrancement almost, as 
these new and clear ideas came thronging on my mind, till 
my dear mother arose from her kneeling posture, and 
stretched out her hand to draw me to her. 

15. "Her face was deadly pale, but perfectly calm and 
resigned. I have her countenance now before me, mild and 
beautiful as an angel's. She had given up her hope of my 
mind, but her love was deeper and more tender, perhaps, 
because her pride in me had been utterly humbled. Oh ! 
there is no earthly passion so disinterested as a mother's 
love ! She thought, from my countenance, that I was 
frightened ; and drawing me to her, she caressed me, and 
murmured, ' My son, my dear son ! ' 

16. " 'I can say my lesson, mother — I can say my lesson 
now,' I broke out, and instantly repeated not only the six 

5-i sterling's southern fourth reader. 

lines, but the whole poem which I had heard her read, but 
had never read myself. She was astonished • but when I 
went on to repeat hymns and poems which she had in vain 
tried to teach me for months and years, her joyful exclama- 
tions were raised in thanks to God ; and her tears again 
flowed like rain. 

17. "I do not think she retired that night at all ; for she 
was kneeling by my bedside when I went to sleep, and 
when I opened my eyes in the morning she was bending 
over me. Probably she feared I might lose my memory, 
and watched my first awaking to confirm her hopes. She 
was gratified. I recollected more clearly that morning than 
the previous evening. My whole being seemed changed. 
Every object looked brighter, every word sounded with a 
new meaning." 

1 8. " Do you believe that any new faculty of mind was 
given you ?" asked Mrs. Wentworth. 

" No, surely not ; but my intellect was aroused and en- 
lightened. How this was effected, I do not pretend to say. 
I have never since found any difficulty in literary pursuits ; 
the exercise of my mind is my most pleasurable employ- 
ment. 1 gained the medal with great applause, and was 
sweetly rewarded by the praises and kisses of my mother. 

19. "How happy she was! too happy for this world. I 
fear the alternations of grief and joy had an injurious effect 
on her health. She passed away in a few months, and left 
me an orphan indeed. But her memory can never pass 
from me while my reason remains. To her I am indebted 
for all my enjoyment of intellect. I have no doubt, that 
had a severe and chilling discipline been pursued with me at 
home as it was at school, I should always have been a dull 
and ignorant being, perhaps an idiot. To a good, faithful, 
intelligent mother, what gratitude and respect do not her 
children owe ! I shall always vindicate the cause of woman." 

Ladies' Magazine. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 


2. Exempted. 

3. Suggest. 

4. Ingenuity. 

5. Ascertain. 

Spell and define — 

6. Pithy. 
8. Medal. 

10. Comprehend. 

11. Intently. 

12. Extinguished. 

14. Arrangement. 

15. Caressed. 

16. Exclamations. 


1. Pas-CA-GOu'la, a river of Mis- 

Grot'toes, large caves. 

2. Tra-di'tion, that which is 

handed down from age to 
age hy oral communication. 

Fes'ti-vals, feasts. 

In-of-fen'sive, harmless. 

Spell and define — 

Mer'maid, a supposed marine 
animal, said to resemble a 
woman in the upper part of 
the body, and a fish in the 
lower part. 
6. Os-cil-la'tions, moving back- 
ward and forward. 


1. While among the Pascagoulas, I was invited to go to 
the mouth of the river of that name, to listen to the myste- 
rious music which floats on the waters, particularly on a calm 
moonlight night, and which to this day excites the wonder 
of visitors. It seems to issue from caverns or grottoes in 
the bed of the river, and sometimes oozes up through the 
water under the very keel of the boat which contains the 
inquisitive traveller, whose ear it strikes as the distant con- 
cert of a thousand iEolian harps. 

2. On the bank of the river close by the spot where the 
music is heard, tradition says that there existed a tribe, dif- 
ferent in color and other peculiarities from the rest of the 
Indians. They were a gentle, gay, inoffensive race, and 
passed their time in festivals and rejoicing. They had a 
temple in which they worshipped a mermaid — a goddess 

66 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

derived from their ancestors — who had originally emerged 
from the sea. 

3. Every night when the moon was visible, they gathered 
around the beautifully carved image of their deity, and, with 
instruments of strange shape, worshipped the idol with such 
music as had never before blessed mortal ears. 

4. One day, shortly after the destruction of Manvila by, 
De Soto and his companions, there appeared among them a 
white man with a large cross in his right hand. He drew 
from his bosom a book which he kissed reverentially, and 
began to explain to them what was contained in that sacred 
little casket ; and in the course of a few months the holy 
man was proceeding with much success in his pious under- 
taking, and the work of conversion was going bravely on, 
when his purpose was defeated by an awful prodigy. 

5. One night, when the moon, at her zenith, poured on 
heaven and earth with more profusion than usual a flood of 
angelic light, at the solemn hour of twelve, when all in 
nature was repose and silence, there came, on a sudden, a 
rushing on the surface of the river, as if the still air had 
been flapped into a whirlwind by myriads of invisible wings 
sweeping around. 

6. The water seemed to be seized with convulsive fury ; 
uttering a deep groan, it rolled several times from one bank 
to the other with rapid oscillations, and then gathered itself 
up into a towering column of foaming waves, on the top of 
which stood a mermaid, looking with magnetic eyes that 
could draw almost every thing to her, and singing with a 
voice that fascinated into madness. 

^ 7. The Indians and the priest rushed to the banks of the 
river to contemplate this supernatural spectacle. When she 
saw them, the mermaid turned her tones into still more be- 
witching melody, and kept chanting a sort of mystic song 
with an oft-repeated ditty. The Indians listened with 
growing ecstasy, and one of them plunged into the water, 
to rise no more. The rest— men, women, and children— fol- 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 


lowed in quick succession, moved, as it were, with the same 
irresistible impulse. 

8. When the last of the race disappeared, a wild laugh of 
exultation was heard, down returned the river to its bed 
with the roar of the cataract, and the whole scene seemed 
to have been but a dream. Ever since that time is heard 
occasionally the distant music which has excited so much 
attention and investigation, and which is believed by the 
other Indian tribes of the neighborhood to come from their 
musical brethren, who still keep up their revels in the palace 
of the mermaid. Charles Gayarre. 

1. Inquisitive. 

2. Peculiarities. 
4. Reverentially. 


Spell and define- 

5. Zenith. 

6. Magnetic. 

1, Spectacle. 



8. Exultation. 

Spell and define — 
1. Bul'bul, Persian nightingale. 3. Car'ol, a joyous song. 

Haunt, frequent. 
2. Spar, mast or yard of a 
Skiff, a small, light boat. 

Sheer, at once. 

4. Drag'ole, to make dirty and 


5. Si'ren, an enchantress. 


1. Come, listen ! Oh, list to that soft dying strain 
Of my mocking-bird, up on the house-top again ; 
He comes every night to these old ruined walls, 
Where soft in the moonlight his melody falls. 
Oh, what can the bulbul or nightingale chant, 
In the climes which they love and the groves which 
they haunt, 

53 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

More thrilling and wild than the song I have heard, 
In the stillness of night from my sweet mocking bird ? 

2. I saw him to-day, on his favorite tree, 

Where he constantly comes in his glory and glee, 
Perched high on a limb, which was standing out far 
Above all the rest, like a tall taper spar : 
The wind it was wafting that limb to and fro, 
And he rode up and down, like a skiff in a blow, 
When it sinks with the billow and mounts with its 

swell ; 
He knew I was watching — he knew it full well. 

4. He folded his pinions and swelled out his throat, 
He mimicked each bird in its own native note — 
The thrush and the robin, the red bird and all — 
And the partridge would whistle and answer his call ; 
Then stopping his carol, he seemed to prepare, 
By the flirt of his wings, for a flight in the air, 
When, rising sheer upward, he wheeled down again, 
And took up his song where he left off the strain. 

4. Would you cage such a creature, and draggle his plumes, 
Condemn him to prison, the worst of all dooms ; 
Take from him the pleasure of flying so free, 
And deny him his ride on the wind-wafted tree ? 
Would you force him to droop within merciless bars, 
When the earth is all sunshine, or heaven all stars ? 
Forbid it, O mercy ! and grant him the boon 
Of a sail in the sun and a song to the moon. 

What a gift he possesses of throat and of lungs ! 
The gift apostolic — the gift of all tongues ! 
Ah, could he but utter the lessons of love, 
To wean us from earth and to waft us above, 
What siren could tempt us to wander again ? 
We'd seek but the siren outpouring that strain, 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 59 

Would listen to naught but his soft dying fall, 
As he sat all alone on some old ruined wall. 

St, Leger L. Carter. 

Spell and define — 

1. Melody. 3. Pinions. Boon. 
Chant. Mimicked. 5. Apostolic. 

2. Glee. 4. Dooms. Waft. 


Sources of Misery. — Whence arises the misery of the 
present world ? It is not owing to our cloudy atmosphere, 
our changing seasons and inclement skies. It is not owing 
to the debility of our bodies, or to the unequal distribution 
of the goods of fortune. Amidst all disadvantages of this 
kind, a pure, a steadfast and enlightened mind, possessed 
of strong virtue, could enjoy itself in peace, and smile at 
the impotent assaults of fortune and the elements. It is 
within ourselves that misery has fixed its seat. Our disor- 
dered hearts, our guilty passions, our violent prejudices, and 
misplaced desires, are the instruments of the trouble which 
■we endure. These sharpen the darts which adversity would 
otherwise point in vain against us. 


Spell and define — 

1. Pick'et, guard on an outpost. 5. Lag'ging, lingering behind. 

8. Mut'ters, speaks in a low voice. Plash'ing, spattering. 


" All quiet along the Potomac," they say, 
" Except now and then a stray picket 
Is shot, as he walks on his beat to and fro, 
By a rifleman hid in the thicket." 

60 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

"lis nothing— a private or two, now and then, 
Will not count in the news of the battle ; 

Not an officer lost — only one of the men 
Moaning out, all alone, the death-rattle. 

2. All quiet along the Potomac to-night, 

Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming ; 
Their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon, 

Or the light of the watch-fires are gleaming. 
A tremulous sigh, as the gentle night wind 

Through the forest leaves slowly is creeping : 
While the stars up above, with their glittering eyes, 

Keep guard — for the army is sleeping. 

3. There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread, 

As he tramps from the rock to the fountain, 
, And thinks of the two on the low trundle-bed, 

Far away in the cot on the mountain : 
His musket falls slack — his face, dark and grim, 

Grows gentle with memories tender, 
As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep— 

For their mother, may Heaven defend her ! 

4. The moon seems to shine as brightly as then, 

That night when the love yet unspoken 
Leaped up to his lips, and when low-murmured vows 

Were pledged, to be ever unbroken ; 
Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes, 

He dashes off tears that are well in jr, 
And gathers his gun close up to its place, 

As if to keep down the heart-swelling. 

5. He passes the fountain, the blasted pine-tree, 

The footsteps are lagging and weary ; 
Yet onward he goes through the broad belt of light, 
Toward the shades of a wood dark and dreary. 



Hark ! was it the night wind that rustled the leaves ? 

Was't the moonlight so wondrously flashing ? 
It looked like a rifle — " Ha ! — Mary, good by I" 

And the life-blood is ebbing and plashing. 

6. All quiet along the Potomac to-night, 
No sound save the rush of the river ; 
While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead — 
The picket's off duty for ever ! 


2. Gleaming. 

Spell and define — 

3. Sentry. 

4. Welling. 

5. Dreary. 

Spell and define — 

Arch'i-tects, builders,, formers, 

Des'ti-nies, ultimate fate, ap- 
pointed condition. 

Me-di-oc'ri-ty, a middle state 
or degree of talents. 

Me'di-o-cre, a man of moderate 

Fi'at, decree. 

5. Con'dor, a large bird. 
Empyr'eal, relating to the 

highest and purest region of 
the heavens. 

6. Ca-reer'ing, moving rapidly. 
Prow'ess, bravery, boldness. 
A-chieve'ments, something ac- 
complished by exertion. 


1. The education, moral and intellectual, of every indi- 
idual, must be chiefly his own work. Rely upon it, that 
he ancients were right ; both in morals and intellect, we 
ive their final shape to our characters, and thus become, 
mphatically, the architects of our own fortune. How else 
)uld it happen that young men who have had precisely 
le same opportunities, should be continually presenting us 


with such different results, and rushing to such opposite 
destinies ? 

2. Difference of talent will not solve it, because that dif- 
ference is very often in favor of the disappointed candidate. 
You will see issuing from the walls of the same college, nay, 
sometimes from the bosom of the same family, two young 
men, of whom one will be admitted to be a genius of high 
order, the other scarcely above the point of mediocrity; 
yet you will see the genius sinking and perishing in pover- 
ty, obscurity, and wretchedness ; while, on the other hand, 
you will observe the mediocre plodding his slow but sure 
way up the hill of life, gaining steadfast footing at every 
step, and mounting, at length, to eminence and distinction, 
an ornament to his family, a blessing to his country. 

3. Now, whose work is this ? Manifestly their own, 
They are the architects of their respective fortunes. The 
best seminary of learning that can open its portals to yon 
can do no more than afford you the opportunity of instruc- 
tion : but it must depend, at last, on yourselves, whether 
you will be instructed or not, or to what point you will 
push your instruction. 

4. And of this be assured, I speak from observation a 
certain truth : there is no excellence without great labor, 
It is the fiat of fate, from which no power of genius car 
absolve you. 

5. Genius, unexerted, is like the poor moth that flutters! 
around a candle, till it scorches itself to death. If genius 
be desirable at all, it is only of that great and magnanimous 
kind, which, like the condor of South- America, pitches fronj 
the summit of Chimborazo, above the clouds, and sustains 
itself, at pleasure, in that empyreal region, with an energy 
rather invigorated than weakened by the effort. 

6. It is this capacity for high and long-continued exertion, 
this vigorous power of profound and searching investigation,, 
this careering and wide-spreading comprehension of mind, 
and these long reaches of thought, that 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 


" Pluck bright honor from the pale-faced moon, 
Or dive into the bottom of the deep, 
And drag up drowned honor by the locks ;" 

this is the prowess, and these the hardy achievements, 
which are to enroll your names among the great men of 
he earth. Wirt. 








Spell and define — 

2. Difference. 

3. Manifestly. 

4. Absolve. 

5. Magnanimous. 

6. Capacity. 


Spell and define — 

Frail, weak, easily destroyed. 3. Prints, tracks. 

Brief, short. Strand, shore of the sea. 

Be-wail', mourn for. Ves'tige, marks or remains. 


1. My life is like the summer rose 

That opens to the morning sky, 
But, ere the shades of evening close, 

Is scattered on the ground — to die ! 
Yet on that rose's humble bed 

The sweetest dews of night are shed, 
As if she wept the waste to see — 

But none shall weep a tear for me. 

2. My life is like the autumn leaf 

That trembles in the moon's pale ray ; 

61 sterling's southern fourth header. 

Its hold is frail — its date is brief, 
Restless and soon to pass away; 

Yet, ere that leaf shall fall and fade, 
The parent tree will mourn its shade, 

The winds bewail the leafless tree — 
But none shall breathe a sigh for me ! 

3. My life is like the prints, which feet 
Have left on Tampa's desert strand ; 
Soon as the rising tide shall beat, 

All trace will vanish from the sand ; 
Yet, as if grieving to efface 

All vestige of the human race, 
On that lone shore loud moans the sea — 
But none, alas ! shall mourn for me ! 

Hon. Richard Henry Wilde, 

lesson XVII. 
Spell and define — 

1. Chords, strings of a musical 3. Decree', authority. 

instrument. 4. Bard, poet. 

2. Rhyme, poetry. 


1. The harp that sang " the Summer Rose," 

In strains so sweetly and so well, 
That, soft as dews at evening's close, 

The pure and liquid numbers fell, 
Is hushed and shattered ! now no more 

Its silvery chords their music pour, 
But, crushed by an untimely blow, 

Both harp and flower in dust lie low ! 

2. The bard — alas ! I knew him well — 

A noble, generous, gentle heart, 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 65 

Which, as his brave hand struck the shell, 
Poured feelings through the veins of art. 

What radiant beauty round his lyre, 
Pure as his loved Italian fire ! 

He caught the sweetest beams of rhyme — 
The Tasso of our Western clime ! 

3. Nor this alone ; a loftier power, 

That shone in halls of high degree, 
And swayed the feelings of the hour, 

As summer winds the rippled sea — 
Bright eloquence ! to him was given — 

That spark the prophet drew from heaven ! 
It touched his lips with patriot flame, 

And shed a halo round his name. 

4. Bard of the South ! the " Summer Rose " 
May perish with the c< autumnal leaf," 
The " footprints left on Tampa's " shores 

May vanish with a date as brief; 
But thine shall be the " life " of fame — 

No winter winds can wreck thy name ; 
And future minstrels shall rehearse 
Thy virtues in memorial verse ! 

Hon. A. B. Meek. 

Spell and define— 

1. Shattered. 

2. Generous. 


3. Rippled. 


4. Vanish. 

66 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

lesson xviii. 
Spell and define— 

2. Si-lo'am, a celebrated pool on 6. Syn'a-gogtte, a congregation of 

the south-east of the temple the Jews met for worship, 

of Jerusalem. 8. Re-vtled ', reproached. 

4. Phah'i-sees, a sect among the Mar'vel-lotts, wonderful. 

Jews, whose religion consist- Wor'ship-per, one who paya 
ed in a strict observance of divine honors, 
rites and ceremonies. Al-to-geth'er, entirely. 
Mir'a-cle, a wonderful event 10. Re-main'eth, fixed or con- 
produced by divine power. tinued. 


1. And as Jesus passed by, he saw a man which was 
blind from his birth. And his disciples asked him, saying, 
Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was 
born blind ? Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, 
nor his parents : but that the works of God should be made 
manifest in him. I must work the works of him that sent 
me, while it is day : the night cometh, when no man can 
work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the 

2. When he had thus spoken, he spat on the ground, and: 
made clay of the spittle, and he anointed the eyes of the 
blind man with the clay, and said unto him, Go, wash imi 
the pool of Siloam, (which is, by interpretation, Sent.) He 
went his way, therefore, and washed, and came seeing. 

3. The neighbors, therefore, and they which before hacfl 
seen him, that he was blind, said, Is not this he that sat 
and begged ? Some said, This is he : others said, He isi 
like him : but he said, I am he. Therefore said they unto 
him, How were thine eyes opened ? He answered and said, 
A man that is called Jesus made clay, and anointed mine. 
eyes, and said unto me, Go to the pool of Siloam, and wash:, 
and I went and washed, and I received sight. Then saidl 
they unto him, Where is he. He said, I know not. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 67 

4. They brought to the Pharisees him that aforetime was 
jlind. And it was the Sabbath day when Jesus made the 
jlay, and opened his eyes. Then again the Pharisees also 
isked him how he had received his sight. He said unto 
;hem, He put clay upon mine eyes, and I washed and do see. 
rherefore said some of the Pharisees, This man is not of 
3-od, because he keepeth not the Sabbath day. Others 
said, How can a man that is a sinner do such miracles ? 
A.nd there was a division among them. 

5. They say unto the blind man again, What sayest thou 
)f him, that he hath opened thine eyes ? He said, He is a 
>rophet. But the Jews did not believe concerning him that 
le had been blind, and received his sight, until they called 
he parents of him that had received his sight. And they 
,sked them, saying, Is this your son, who ye say was born 
>lind ? how then doth he now see ? His parents an- 
wered them and said, We know that this is our son, and 
hat he was born blind : but by what means he now seeth, 
ve know not ; or who hath opened his eyes, we know not : 
e is of age ; ask him : he shall speak for himself. 

6. These words spake his parents, because they feared 
he Jews : for the Jews had agreed already, that if any 
lan did confess that he was Christ, he should be put out 
f the synagogue.. Therefore said his parents, He is of age ; 
sk him. 

7. Then again called they the man that was blind, and said 
nto him, Give God the praise : we know that this man is a 
inner. He answered and said, Whether he be a sinner or no, 
know not : one thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, 
ow I see. Then they said to him again, What did he to 
lee ? how opened he thine eyes ? He answered them, I 
ave told you already, and ye did not hear : wherefore 

ould ye hear it again ? Will ye also be his disciples ? 

8. Then they reviled him, and said, Thou art his disciple ; 
at we are Moses' disciples. We know that God spake 
nto Moses : as for this fellow, we know not from whence 


sterling's southern fourth reader. 

he is. The man answered and said unto them, Why, 
herein is a marvellous thing, that ye know not from whence 
he is, and yet he hath opened mine eyes. Now we know 
that God heareth not sinners : but if any man be a worship- 
per of God, and doeth his will, him he heareth. Since the 
world began was it not heard, that any man opened the 
eyes of one that was born blind. If this man were not of 
God, he could do nothing. They answered and said unto 
him, Thou wast altogether born in sins, and dost thou teach 
us ? And they cast him out. 

9. Jesus heard that they had cast him out ; and when he 
had found him, he said unto him, Dost thou believe on the 
Son of God ? He answered and said, Who is he, Lord, 
that I might believe on him ? And Jesus said unto him, 
Thou hast both seen him, and it is he that talketh with 
thee. And he said, Lord, I believe. And he worshipped 

10. And Jesus said, For judgment I am come into thisl 
world, that they which see not might see ; and that they 
which see might be made blind. And some of the Phari- 
sees which were with him heard these words, and said unto 
him, Are we blind also ? Jesus said unto them, If ye were 
blind, ye should have no sin ! but now ye say, We see ; 
therefore your sin remaineth. 


Spell and define — 

1. Disciples. 

2. Anointed. 

5. Concerning. 

6. Confess. 
1. Sinner. 

8. Fellow. 

9. Talketh. 
10. Judgment. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 69 

lesson" xix. 
Spell and define — 

1. Ex-CUb'sion, journey, expedi- Wig'wams, Indian cabins or 

tion. huts. 

A-ban'don-ing, forsaking. 3. Vet'e-ran, one grown old in 

2. Prac'ries, extensive tracts service. 

of level land destitute of 4. Cer'e-mo-ny, form or rite, 
trees and covered with tall 5. Mel'an-chol-y, gloomy, sad. 

grass. De-crep'it, infirm from age. 


1. The worst trait in the character of the North- American 
[ndians is the neglect shown the aged and helpless. This 
s carried to such a degree, that on a march or a hunting 
excursion, it is a common practice for Indians to leave be- 
nnd their nearest relations, if old and infirm, giving them 
i little food and water, and then abandoning them without 
ieremony to their fate. When thus forsaken by all that is 
lear to them, the fortitude of these old people does not for- 
ake them, and their inflexible Indian courage sustains them 
igainst despondency. They regard themselves as entirely 
iseless ; and, as the custom of the nation has long led them 
o anticipate this mode of death, they attempt not to re- 
nonstrate against the measure, which is, in fact, often the 
esult of their own solicitation. 

2. Catlin, one of the most zealous defenders of the Indian 
iharacter, relates the following scene, of which he was an 
ye-witness in the year 1840. " We found that the Punchas 
rere packing up all their goods, and preparing to start for 
he prairies in pursuit of buffaloes, to dry meat for their 
winter's supplies. They took down their wigwams of skins 
o carry with them. My attention was directed by Major 
Sanford, the Indian agent, to one of the most miserable and* 
elpless-looking objects I had ever seen in ray life — a very 

ed and emaciated man of the tribe, who, he told me, was 

70 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

going to be exposed ! The tribe were going where hunger 
and dire necessity obliged them to go ; and this pitiable 
object, who had once been a chief, and a man of distinction 
in his tribe, but who was now too old to travel, being re- 
duced to mere skin and bone, was to be left to starve, or 
meet such a death as might fall to his lot, and his bones to 
be picked by the wolves ! 

3. "I lingered around this poor, forsaken patriarch, foE| 
hours before we started. I wept ; and it was a relief to 
weep, looking at the old, abandoned veteran, whose eyes 
were dimmed, whose venerable locks were whitened by a 
hundred years, whose limbs were almost naked, and who 
trembled with cold as he sat by a small fire which hisj 
friends had left him, with a few sticks of wood within his 
reach, and a buffalo's skin stretched upon some crotches 
over his head. Such was to be his only dwelling, and such 
were the chances for his life, with only a few half-picked! 
bones within his reach, and a dish of water, without means \ 
of any kind to replenish his supply,. or to move his body! 
from that fatal locality. 

4. "His friends and his children had all left him, and 
were preparing in a little time to be on their march. Hej 
had told them to leave him, « he was old,' he said, ' and to4j 
feeble to march.' ' My children,' said he, ' our nation igJ 
poor, and it is necessary that you should all go to the coun-| 
try where you can get meat. My eyes are dimmed, and 
my strength is no more ; my days are nearly all numbered, 
and I am a burden to my children ; I cannot go, and I wish 
to die. Keep your hearts stout, and think not of me ; I ar« 
no longer good for any thing.' In this way they had fin-j 
ished the ceremony of exposing him, and taken their findl 
leave of him. I advanced to the old man, and 'was un- 
doubtedly the last human being who held converse witf 
him. I sat by the side of him, and though he could n<s$ 
distinctly see me, he shook me heartily by the hand, an! 



smiled, evidently aware that I was a white man, and that I 
sympathized with his inevitable misfortune. 

5. " When passing by the site of the Puncha village a 
few months after this, in my canoe, I went ashore with my 
men, arid found the poles and the buffalo-skin standing as 
they were left over the old man's head. The firebrands 
were lying nearly as I had left them ; and I found, at a few 
yards' distance, the skull and other bones of the old man, 
which had been picked and cleaned by the wolves, which is 
probably all that any human being can ever know of his 
final and melancholy fate. This cruel custom of exposing 
their aged people belongs, I think, to all the tribes who 
roam about the prairies, making severe marches, when such 
lecrepit persons are totally unable to go, unable to ride or 
;o walk, and when they have no means of carrying them." 








Spell and define- 

3. Patriarch. 


4. Sympathized. 

5. Canoe. 


Spell and define — 

. Class'ic-al, correct, refined. 
An-ab'a-sis, Xenophon's history 
of the retreat of the ten thou- 
sand Greeks. 
Buck'lers, ancient shields. 

3. Phan'toms, fancied visions. 

4. Biv'ouac, an encampment with- 

out tents or covering. 
O-lym'pi-an, relating to the 
Olympic games. 

72 sterling's southern fourth reader. 


1. I know of no passage in classical literature more beau- 
tiful or affecting than that where Xenophon, in his Anaba- 
sis, describes the effect produced on the remnant of the ten 
thousand Greeks, when, after passing through dangers with- 
out number, they at length ascended a sacred mountain, and 
from its peaked summit caught a sight of the sea. 

2. Clashing their bucklers, with a hymn of joy they 
rushed tumultuously forward. Some wept with the fulness 
of their delirious pleasure, others laughed, and more fell on 
their knees, and blessed that broad ocean. Across its blue 
waters, little floating sea-birds, the memorials of their hap- 
py homes, came and fanned their weary souls. 

3. All the perils they had encountered, all the compan- 
ions they had lost, all the miseries they had endured, were 
in an instant forgotten, and naught was with them but the 
gentle phantoms of past and future joys. 

4. One was again scouring across the hoof-trodden plains 
of Thessaly ; another reclined beneath the flower-crowned 
rocks of Arcadia, and gazed into the dreamy eyes of her 
whose form, amid battle and bivouac, was ever with him ; 
a third recalled that proud day, when, before the streaming 
eyes of his overjoyed parents, and amid the acclamations of 
all Greece, he bore off, from amid competitors, the laurel 
wreath of the Olympian victor. 

5. O home ! magical, all-powerful home ! how strong 
must have been thy influence, when thy faintest memory 
could cause those bronzed heroes of a thousand rights tc 
weep like tearful women ! With the cooling freshness of | 
desert fountain, with the sweet fragrance of a flower found 
in winter, you came across the great waters to those wart 
dering men, and beneath the peaceful shadow of your wingJ 
their souls found rest. 

6. It is related of a Greek islander in exile, that, being 
taken to the vale of Tempc, and called upon to admire itft 



beauty, he only replied, " The sea — where is it ?" Upon 
this incident Mrs. Hemans has penned the following appro- 
priate lines : 

7. " Where is the sea ? I languished here — where is my 
own blue sea, 

With all its barks in fleet career, and flags and breezes 
free ? 

I miss that voice of waves which first awoke my 
childish glee ; * 

The measured chime, the thundering burst — where 
is my own blue sea ? 

Oh, rich your myrtle breath may rise ; soft, soft your 
winds may be, 

Yet my sick heart within me dies — where is my own 
blue sea? 

I hear the shepherd's mountain flute, I hear the whis- 
pering tree ; 

The echoes of my soul are mute — where is my own 

blue sea ?" 

Spell and define — 

. Literature. 

. Tumultuously. 


. Encountered 

4. Reclined. 

5. Magical. 


Spell and define — 


6. Exile. 

7. Languish. 

Mien, manner, air. 
Ween, think. 

Ac' cent, manner of speaking. 

4. Hap'less, unfortunate. 

5. List'en-er, one who listens. 

6. Im pending, threatening. 

t * Pi**--**- • ~ ■ 
74 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

it is somebody's child. 

1. As late I walked along the street, 
I chanced a little child to meet ; 
And though it wept with sore outcry, 
Uncared for by the passers-by : 

Yet one there was of gentle mien — 
A mother's heart was hers, I ween — . 
Who paused and asked the infant's grief, 
And soothingly she gave relief. 

2. Meanwhile, the listless crowd looked on, 
Till, with unwonted feeling, one 
Spoke wondering, with a sort of stare, 
And asked why she should show such care ? 

" Is it your child ?" — she turned and gazed 
Upon the questioner, amazed, 
And answered with an accent mild, 

" No ; but it is somebody's child I" 

3. There spoke a woman's sympathy, 
That turned to soothe an infant's cry, 
And felt, because some mother's heart 

For the child's grief with pain would smart, 

4. Thus felt the Egyptian princess, while 
The bulrush ark beside the Nile 
Was opened, and the " goodly child" 
She rescued from the waters wild 

Lay " weeping" there ; compassion woke 
Within her breast, and thus she spoke : 
* e 'Tis of the hapless Hebrew race : 
Go find a nurse, in whose embrace 
He shall be reared to be my son, 
Whom I have from the waters drawn." 

north cabouha state library. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 75 

5. Marl's sterner soul may lightly heed 
The claim of childhood in its need ; 
And e'en his selfish policy 

May cast it forth and let it die ; 
But God still watches o'er the weak, 
And makes their tears with power speak, 
When woman's gentler spirit feels 
The pity which, in her, appeals ; 
And pain and grief can find in her, 
A tender, patient listener ; 
A heart to soothe, a hand to give, 
And bid the helpless outcast live. 

6. Go thou, of winning mien and form, 
And strive to cheer with pity warm 
Some sufferer, whom thy bounteous deed 
Shall rescue from impending need ; 
And from the field thy tender care 

»Hath blessed, shalt thou reap blessings rare ; 
Gladness shall fill thy heart — thy face 
Shall beam with beauteous light — and grace 

I Thy steps attend — for thou shalt be 

Like Christ, whose life was sympathy. Anon. 

Spell and define — 

1. Outcry. Amazed. 5. Watches. 
Uncared. 3. Soothe. Patient. 

2. Meanwhile. 4. Egyptian. 6. Bounteous. 
Gazed. Kescued. Beauteous. 

76 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

lesson xxii. 

Spell and define — ■ 

6. Ef'fltj-ence, that which flows 25. Drop' se-rene, a disease of the | 
or issues from any substance eye. 

or body. 26. Suf-fu'sion, the state of being - 
Es'sence, being, existence. spread over as with a fluid. 

In-cre-Ate', uncreated. 39. Darkling, without light. 

14. Sty'gi-an, referring to the 40. Noc-tur'nal, nightly. 

Styx, fabled to be a river of 49. Ex-punged', rubbed out, blot- 1 
hell. ted out. 

15. So'journ, a temporary resid- Razed, blotted out, obliter- 

ence. ated. 

16. Or'phe-an, relating to Orphe- 53. Ir-ra'di-ate, illuminate, en- 

us, a celebrated musician. lighten. 

18. Cha'os, confusion, disorder. 


1. Hail ! holy Light, offspring of Heaven first born, 
Or of the eternal, co eternal beam, 
May I express thee unblamed ? Since God is light, 
And never but in unapproached light 

5. Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, 
Bright effluence of bright essence increate. 
Or hear'st thou, rather, pure ethereal stream, 
Whose fountain who shall tell ? Before the sun, 
Before the heavens thou wert, and at the voice 

10. Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest 
The rising world of waters dark and deep, 
Won from the void and formless infinite. 

Thee I revisit now with bolder wing, 
Escaped the Stygian pool, though long detained 
15. In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight, 

Through utter and through middle darkness borne 

With other notes than to the Orphean lyre, 

I sung of chaos and eternal night, 

Taught by the heavenly muse to venture down 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 77 

0. The dark descent, and up to reascend, 

Though hard and rare. Thee I revisit safe, 
And feel thy sovereign, vital lamp ; but thou 
Revisit'st not these eyes that roll in vain, 
To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn ; 

55. So thick a drop-serene hath quenched their orbs, 
Or dim suffusion vailed. Yet not the more 
Cease I to wander where the muses haunt, 
Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, 
Smit with the love of sacred song ; but chief 

JO. Thee, Sion, and the flowery brooks beneath, 
That wash thy hallowed feet, and warbling flow, 
Nightly I visit ; nor sometimes forget 
Those other two, equalled with me in fate, 
So were I equalled with them in renown, 

35. Blind Thamyris and blind Mseonides, 
And Tiresias and Phineus, prophets old : 
Then feed on thoughts that voluntary move 
Harmonious numbers, as the wakeful bird 
Sings darkling, and in shadiest covert hid, 

10. Tunes her nocturnal note. Thus with the year, 
Seasons return, but not to me returns 
Day, or the sweet approach of even and morn ; 
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose ; 
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; 

45. But cloud, instead, and ever-during dark 

Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men 
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair 
Presented with a universal blank 
Of nature's works, to me expunged and razed, 

50. And wisdom, at one entrance, quite shut out. 
So much the rather thou, celestial Light, 
Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers 
Irradiate : there plant eyes, all mist from thence 
Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell 

55. Of things invisible to mortal sight. Milton". 


sterling's southern fourth reader. 

2. Coeternal. 
4. Unapproached. 
7. Ethereal. 
10. Invest. 

12. Void. 

13. Revisit. 

14. Escaped. 

Spell mid define — 

15. Obscure. 

17. Lyre. 

22. Sovereign. 

24. Piercing. 

26. Vailed. 

27. Haunt. 

31. Hallowed. 
34. Renown. 

37. Voluntary. 

38. Harmonious. 

39. Covert. 
51. Celestial. 
54. Disperse. 


Spell and define — 

1. Ebbed, flowed. 
Token, a sign. 

2. Ghast'ly, deathlike. 
De-cline', go down. 

8. Struggles, contests. 

4. Com'rade, a fellow-soldier. 

Re-gret', grief, sorrow. 

5. Scorning, treating with con 


6. Con-fi'ding-ly, lovingly, 

7. Calm'ly, quietly. 
Dread'pul, full of horror. 


1. " A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers : 

There was lack of woman's nursing, there was lack of 

woman's tears ; 
But a comrade stood beside him, while his life-blood li 

ebbed away, 
And bent with pitying glances, to hear what he might j 


The dying soldier faltered, as he took his comrade's 

And he said, I never more shall see my own, my na- 
tive land ; 

Take a message and a token to some distant friends of 

For I was born at Bingen, at Bingen on the Rhine. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 79 

2. " Tell niy brothers and companions, when they meet and 

crowd around, 
To hear my mournful story, in the pleasant vineyard 

That we fought the battle bravely, and when the day 

was done, 
Full many a corse lay ghastly pale, beneath the set- 
ting sun ; / 
And 'midst the dead and dying, were some grown old 

in wars, 
The death-wounds on their gallant breasts the last of 

many scars ; 
And some were young, and suddenly beheld life's noon 

And one had come from Bingen, from Bingen on the 


I " Tell my mother that her sons shall comfort her old age, 
And I was still a truant bird, that thought his home a 

cage ; 
For my father was a soldier, and even as a child, 
My heart leaped forth to hear him tell of struggles fierce 

and wild ; 
And when he died and left us to divide his scanty hoard, 
I let them take whate'er they would, but kept my 

father's sword, 
And with boyish love I hung it where the bright light 

used to shine, 
On the cottage wall at Bingen, calm Bingen on the 


t. Tell my sister not to weep for me, and sob with drooping 
When the troops are marching home again with gay 
and gallant tread ; 

80 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

But to look upon them proudly, with a calm and stead- 
fast eye, 

For her brother was a soldier too, and not afraid to 

And if a comrade seeks her love, I ask her in my name, 

To listen to him kindly without regret or shame; 

And to hang the old sword in its place, (my father's 
sword and mine,) 

For the honor of old Bingen, dear Bingen on the Rhine. 

5. " There's another — not a sister — in the happy days gone 

You'd have known her by the merriment that sparkled in 

her eye, 
Too innocent for coquetry, too fond for idle scorning, 

friend ! I fear the lightest heart makes sometimes 

heaviest mourning, 
Tell her the last night of my life (for, ere the sun be risen, 
My body will be out of pain, my soul be out of prison) 

1 dreamed I stood with her, and saw the yellow sunlight 

On the vine-clad hills of Bingen, fair Bingen on the 

6. " I saw the blue Rhine sweep along ; I heard, or seemed 

to hear, 
The German songs we used to sing, in chorus sweet and 

clear ; 
And down the pleasant river, and up the pleasant hill, 
The echoing chorus sounded through the evening calm 

and still ; 
And her glad blue eyes were on me, as we passed with 

friendly talk, 
Down many a path beloved of yore, and well-remembered 


sterling's southern fourth reader. 


And her little hand lay lightly, confidingly in mine- 
But we'll meet no more at Bingen, loved Bingen on the 

7. " His voice grew faint and hoarse, his grasp was childish, 

His eyes pat on a dying look, he sighed, and ceased to 

speak ; 
His comrade bent to lift him, but the spark of life had 

The soldier of the Legion in a foreign land was dead ! 
And the soft moon rose up slowly, and calmly she looked 

On the red sand of the battle-field, with bloody corpses 

strown ; 
Yea, calmly on that dreadful scene, her pale light seemed 

to shine, 
As it did in distant Bingen, fair Bingen on the Rhine." 

Mrs. Norton. 

1. Faltered. 


2. Companions. 

3. Truant. 

Spell and define — 


4. Drooping. 

5. Merriment. 

6. Chorus. 

7. Hoarse. 

Spell and define — 

1. Plen'i-tude, fulness. 5. Bourn, a bound, a limit. 

2. Can'vas, a coarse cloth on 6. Dun'geons, dark prisons. 

which paintings are executed. 7. Gon'do-la, a boat used on the 

3. A-non'y-motjs, without a name. canals of Venice. 

4. Denizens, inhabitants. Ig-No'ble, mean. 


82 sterling's southern fourth reader. 


1. Having witnessed the posthumous gratitude and grief 
of these devout Romanists for the munificence of a dead 
benefactor, we turned to the Doge's or Ducal Palace, where 
you may be sure we found much both to look at and think 
about. This great structure is intimately connected with 
both the past glory and the shame of Venice, and is crowd- 
ed with the finest works of art as well. Here, as at the 
Academy of Fine Arts, those great Masters who have given 
renown to the Venetian school of painting, shine in the 
plenitude of their splendor. 

2. The grand old Senate Chamber, for instance, is radiant 
with their choice productions ; one of them, the Last Judg- 
ment, by Tintorini — a subject, by the way, which some of 
the Venetian legislators needed to have conspicuously be- 
fore them — covering one entire end wall of the hall. This 
room is also remarkable for the first paintings ever executed 
on canvas. Here also is the library — a storehouse of rare 
old books and manuscripts. 

3. In other parts of the palace you have mementoes of 
the methods of administering "justice" in by-gone days. 
Near the entrance to the Council Chamber is a letter-box, 
accessible from the outside, into which were dropped anon- 
ymous accusations against such persons as the malignantly 
disposed might wish to ruin. Here also is the masked cham- 
ber, where witnesses could swear to the foulest charges, 
and nobody ever know who gave the testimony, and open- 
ing out of which is the secret door through which the ac- 
cused and condemned passed, to see the sunlight of liberty 
and life no more for ever. 

4. Some of these apartments are elegantly finished with 
panels of cedar and rich carvings. Here and there is a 
blank space, once filled with a choice picture, but which 
Napoleon carried off, with his other spoils, to l^aris, and 
which has never found its way back. In one room is shown 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 83 

a map of special interest to denizens of our own new world. 
It was made before Christopher Columbus discovered our 
Western shores, and is a map of the world, without America. 

5. With the Ducal Palace is also connected another 
celebrity, of which every one has heard— the celebrated 
!* Bridge' of Sighs." It extends from the palace to the 
prisons°, and is divided into a gallery and a cell. Prisoners, 
when taken out to die, were conducted over this bridge into 
the cell, and there strangled. It was « the bourn from 
which no traveller returned ;" hence its name. It is a short 
bridge, but the journey was a very long one. 

6. The dungeons underneath the palace even now fill one 
with horror to visit them, being even more dismal and ter- 
rible than the old Mamertine prisons at Rome. An intri- 
cate passage leads to them, and the lower ones are far un- 
der ground. The wretched cells are narrow and low-roof- 
ed, and closed with heavy masonry. They are in midnight 
darkness, and the only chance for air is from a little hole 
in the door. Human ingenuity could scarcely devise a 
more horrible sepulchre for the living. 

7. Prisoners who were not left to linger out the misera- 
ble remnant of their days in the midnight gloom of these 
dungeons, were furnished a more speedy means of exit from 
this°world, in the garroting chair which once stood in the 
adjoining passage. To this the unhappy victim, having 
been conducted in the dead of night, and seated in it, was 
strangled, and his neck broken by the turn of the fatal 
screw, when his body was handed out of a little door, ar- 
ranged for the purpose, and borne away by the stealthy 
gondola to its ignoble last resting-place. Hard as is the 
present lot of Venice under Austrian rule, it is not so bad as 
in those by-gone days of terror. 

Rev. John Leyburn. 


sterling's southern fourth reader. 

1. Posthumous. 

2. Radiant. 

Spell and define — 

3. Mementoes. 


5. Celebrity. 

6. Intricate. 

V. Exit. 


lesson xxv. 
Spell and define 

1. Wah/eth, lamenteth. A-mends', corrections. 
Hail'eth, saluteth. 4. Re-lent'ing, softening in tem- 

2. Shroud, the dress of the dead. per. 

8. Pro-ces'sion, a company mov- 6. Re-dress'ing, setting right. 

ing in order. 7. Im-mor-tal'i-ty, unending life. 


1. Hark to the solemn tones! the Old Tear waileth 

His farewell accents on the midnight air. 
Faint, and more faintly, while the Sabbath haileth 
The New with prayer. 

2. Another, yet another, friend is leaving, 

His minute-pulse grows still, and chill his breath, 
While silently his shroud, the snow flakes weaving, 
Wrap him in death. 

3. What sad fond memories in procession thronging! 

As ever round the grave of other friends, 
And then all fruitlessly, there comes the longing 
To make amends. 

4. The dead, alas ! heed not our deep relenting, 

Nor heed the low, sad music of our sighs ; 
But living fruits, the growth of our repenting, 
The living prize. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 85 

5. It is as when a gentle mother giveth 

The life on which another's trembling hun^ ; 
The new-born Year, with Hope which ever liveth, 
From death has sprung? 

6. If loud her woes and wrongs call for redressing, 

And cry to Heaven for vengeance on your head, 
Heap on her offspring that repentant blessing 
Denied the dead. 

7. And light of immortality down-streaming 

Around the future of the cradled Year, 
Shows in its circling hues a promise beaming, 
Wrought from the tear. 

Sallie P. Atkinson. 


What makes a lady ?— not the pride of place- 
Not empty vauntings of a high-born race ; 
Not wealth, however won ; not tinsel show, 
Nor polish, such as boarding-schools bestow ; 
Nor artful artlessness, nor studied grace, 
Nor wit sarcastic, that, to gain its end, 
Would wound the helpless or estrange a friend ; 
Nor ball-room conquests, such as leave a trace 
Of that dead-heartedness to which they tend. 
All these dazzle ; yes, may charm awhile, 
But cannot long a worthy heart beguile. 

What makes a lady ? A most upright mind ; 
A heart most loving, disposition kind 
And gentle as the west wind's softest play ; 
But firm to tread when duty points the way ; 
An honest love of truth that will not bend 
To slander rivals or to praise a friend ; 

86 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

A dignity on noble purpose based, 
That mingles gladness in the mourner's cup, 
Restrains the proud, but lifts the humble up ; 
And purity of thought that may be traced 
In every act and word : these make the lady. 


Spell and define — 

1. In-tj-til'i-ty, uselessness. Pee'vish-ness, fretfulness. 
' Ra-pid'i-ty, swiftness. 4. Sur-vives', outlives. 

2. Ag'gra-vates, makes worse. 5, Ret-ri-bu'tion, reward. 

3'. A-dapt'ed, made suitable. Prey'ing, wasting gradually. 


1. The folly of complaining is evident from itis utter inu- 
tility. If complaints could rebuild the house consumed by 
fire, if complaints could gather again the wealth once scat! 
tered, if complaints could infuse rapidity into the sluggish 
blood and retouch the pale and wasted cheek with the riJ 
hue of health, if complaints could reach the ear of deatl 
and recall the loved lost ones, and give their lips the ell 
quence of love, and their eyes the glance of affection thai 
once thrilled us— then might a man complain, and his neighl 
bors might not call it foolish. 

2. But it injures one's character to indulge in complaints 
Without making his condition better, it destroys that gen- 
tleness of spirit which is so soothing in affliction, and de 
prives a man of the fortitude with which the ills of lif 
should be borne. It aggravates the wounds of the spiri 
It exaggerates the minor evils of existence. When grow«l 
into a habit, it makes a man a perpetual self-tormentor, ail 
a source of continual vexation to his family and friends 
And this wretched habit, growing with a man's years, refl 
ders him not only unhappy in himself and disagreeable I 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 87 

others, but it makes him a worse man, by exciting his own 
evil passions, and an injurious man, by irritating the pas- 
sions of others. 

3. Its great sinfulness is seen further in the fact, that it 
has its rise in the exceeding selfishness of the heart. Every 
thing must go as the man wishes, or he is full of bitter com- 
plaints. The millions of the world's population must be 
overlooked, and the world's Governor must set Himself to 
study the comfort of the complainer. The seasons must be 
adapted to his convenience ; the tide in the affairs of men 
must be turned into the channel which bears him on to for- 
tune, no matter how many thousands are ruined by the 
change ; and the gates of life and death must be opened 
and shut at his pleasure ; or he complains of fortune, that 
is, of the providence of God. It is no slight degree of sin- 
rulness to be so presumptuous as to call God's works and 
ways into question, without the spirit of devout solemnity, 
iinder the irritation of a short-sighted selfishness, and with 
;he peevishness of a perverse, ill-natured, spoilt child. To 
;he folly is added the great sin of ingratitude. 

4. But wherefore should a living man complain ? Has 
le not life ? and having life, has he not hope ? The future 
I before him, full of promise, and may he not hope that he 
stands near the very movement in the world which is to lift 
lim up to bliss and prosperity ? Has he not the present — a 
ich mine of gold beneath his feet, that only asks labor to 
pread its glories to his eyes ? Has he not a mind within 
iim— -a living, bounding, powerful principle, which survives 
he material changes around it, which leaps the tallest ob- 
tacle and flings everjr opponent aside ? What may stand 
>efore his mind ? Has he not a heart — a heart in which 
buntains of affection are gushing up to refresh him and 
>less others? Let him clear those fountains of the rubbish 
f sin, and sweet as the waters of paradise will they be. 
bid, stript of every outward possession, naked and alone, 
et him stand in a wilderness place of this world — he is a 


sterling's southern fourth reader. 

man, lie is alive, he is immortal, the greatest, noblest, and 
most glorious creature that treads the earth— the child of 
time, but the heir of eternity ! 

5. In addition to the minor common causes of complaint 
in the world, there is one which, it may not be too much to 
say, is common to every unregenerate heart— the complaint 
on account of the punishment of sin. There is often a deep 
murmuring of spirit, which does not always find its way to 
the lips. There is a restlessness and discontent, a dissatis- 
faction, and even a rebellion of heart against God, when the 
rod of justice falls on the sinner in the midst of his iniqui- 
ties, or after the lapse of years teaches him that God does 
not forget. It is clear that retribution is not all delayed, 
until the awful day of doom. It is clear that the earnest 
of the final punishment comes upon many, if not upon all, 
while yet in the flesh. The preying disease which succeeds 
excessive and sinful indulgence, the remorse of heart, the 
distraction of mind, the civil and domestic miseries, which 
follow in the wake of crime— these show that the great 
Governor has linked pain with sin. 

Rev. C. F. Deems, D.D. 

1. Infuse. 

2. Soothing. 

Spell and define- 

3. Channel. 

4. Bounding. 

5. Minor. 





Spell and define — 
5. Se-QUEs'tehed, secluded, pri- 50. Portrayed', painted. 


14. Bb-nig'nant, gracious, kind. 
20. Gleamed, shone brightly. 
27. Vaults, hidden recesses. 

55. Gar'land-ed, adorned 

wreaths of flowers. 
83. Ben-e-dic'tion, blessing, 
91. Stun'ning, confounding, 


sterling's southern fourth reader. 89 


1. Hast thou forgotten him ? A holy man 
Who but a little while — a year ago 
Found in a thousand homes a welcome kind ; 
And wouldst thou know indeed ? Then go amidst 
5. The sweet sequestered homes of wealth, nestling 
Among our mountains wild, and ask ; or seek 
The lowly cottage by the way amidst 
Our western hills, or where the shadowy pines 
In solemn grandeur stand upon the low 

10. White-sanded plains, ask one and all, and hear 
From gray-haired sire, to playful, prattling child, 
" He is remembered here." 

E'en now his kind, 
Benignant face I see as oft of old, 

15. When on his yearly round he came. What deep 
Humility was his ! And yet there was 
A conscious dignity in his whole life, 
Which showed he felt his high commission too, 
And would honor claim for Him who sent him forth. 

20. How kindly gleamed his dark expressive eye, 
From 'neath his overhanging brows ! It seemed 
To read the inmost soul, and his kind heart 
Dictated for that soul the very words 
It most required ; but they were words of love 

25. Even to the erring ; and his warning voice 
Long lingered in the galleries of the heart, 
And in the vaults of conscience echoes woke 
When harsh invectives would have rattled down 
Like hail upon the slated roof. His face 

30. A cordial welcome met in many a home 

Where now his absence long is deep lamented. 
Each child he knew by name, each claimed him as 
Its own peculiar friend. And on his lap 
Would climb at eventide, by turns the lambs 

90 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

35. Of every household; sometimes a story- 
Strange and wonderful to tell of their own 
Exploits since he last was there, but oftener - 
Still to beg a story of his wanderings 
Far and near ; and from his stores exhaustless, 

40. He would draw full many a gem of knowledge 
And of precious truth, which in their memories 
Long would shine, while older hearts attention 
Gave, and from his converse wiser grew. 
Few were his wants and easily supplied, 

45. And on his head at parting blessings fell 

From those who, ne'er till then, beheld his face, 

But seeing once could never lose again. 

His own great aim in life was faithfully 

To serve. The harvest white, the laborers few — 

50. A scene portrayed for ever in his view. 
To reap, to gather in ere his own sun 
Went down ; the golden hours in golden deeds 
To spend. These were the objects of his life. 
Bat why, oh why ! do not his faithful feet 

55. Return ? The Spring, all garlanded with flowers, 
And regal Summer, and bright-tinted Fall, 
Have each their empire held, and given way 
To Winter stern and cold, and yet he comes 
Not still. Come in, ye little ones who wait 

60. Impatient for his coming at the gate ; 
Put back the " Holy Bible " to its place ; 
And put aside the old arm-chair brought out 
For his especial use. No more he'll come — 
No more will he unfold the wondrous depths 

65. Of knowledge and of wisdom heavenly taught 
In God's own Book to your believing hearts. 
To many a lowly cottage by the way 
When all was dark and drear, and Hope looked not 
Beyond the grave for immortality, 

10. He like a messenger divine has gone 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 91 

And borne to these benighted ones the lamp 
Of life, nor left them till its joyous beams 
Had scattered darkness from their contrite hearts. 
But this is o'er, and he to his reward has gone. 

lb. Not 'midst the loved ones of his own dear home, 
Did he the mandate hear, " Come higher up, 
Beloved of the Lord." Not with the hand 
Of her, the helpmeet of his walk in life, 
Soft resting on his brow, did he expire. 

80. His parting words, those ever prized the most 
And last to be forgot in kindred ears 
Were not breathed forth. The look, the lingering tone, 
The benediction fond which unto them — 
His children — would have brought a pleasure, sad 

85. Indeed and mournful — yet a pleasure still, 
On them were not bestowed, nor did he stop 
As for a single night to rest in some 
Dear home of his adoption in our midst, 
And find his journey o'er, his final rest 
' 90. At hand. Then would the heavy stroke have come 
With less of stunning power. But far away 
From human ken, alone, save with his God, 
And those blest spirits ministrant, who turned 
With heavenly hands the green sod on the brow 

95. Of Nebo's lofty cliffs, and gently laid 
The Patriarch Moses to his peaceful rest. 
No sigh from human heart was o'er him heard, 
But through the dark and melancholy pines 
There came a deep, long, swelling sigh 

100. As if one universal pang of grief 

Heaved every bosom when his spirit fled. 
Mournful and sad they waved their funeral plumes, 
And the evening, winds with murmured whispering 
Through the branches swept as if the tidings 

105. Sad each to the other bore. 

Like a watchman 


sterling's southern fourth reader. 


On the wall — like a soldier at his post, 
With his full armor girt about, he fell, 
And, faithful unto death, a crown of life 
Has from the Master's hand received. 

Mary Ayer Miller. 

5. Nestling. 

9. Grandeur. 
11. Sire. 
18. Commission. 

Spell and define- 

26. Galleries. 
28. Invectives. 
37. Exploits. 
39. Exhaustless. 

73. Contrite. 
76. Mandate. 
91. Stunning. 
93. Minis trant. 



JSpell and define — 
Em'i-grants, those who re- Yards, long timbers on which 

move from one country to 

Aus'pi-ces, influences. 
3. Hur'ri-cane, a violent storm 

of wind. 
Trop'i-cal, belonging to the 

torrid zone. 

the sails of a ship are ex- 
Ketch, a vessel with two 

8. Calked, stopped, filled up. 

9. Steered, directed, guided. 


1. Emigrants now offered themselves from every quarter 
and of every class. Nine vessels were equipped and fur- 
nished with every thing necessary to safety during the voy- 
age, and to the comfort of the colonists on their arrival. 
They carried nearly five hundred settlers, besides the crews, 
and set forth under auspices so flattering as to attract to 
their enterprise the title of " the Virgine voyage." Lord 
Delaware remained yet in England, intending to follow 
them in the course of a few months. Sir George Sorners 
was appointed admiral of Virginia, and Sir Thomas Gates 
lieutenant-general, and Christopher Newport commander 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 93 

of the fleet ; but by a most unwise arrangement, these 
three officers all embarked in the same ship, being unable to 
determine among themselves the important question of pri- 

2. They sailed from Plymouth on the second day of June, 
and notwithstanding their express orders to proceed imme- 
diately westward, they went as far south as the twenty- 
sixth degree of latitude, and paid the penalty of their de- 
lay in disease and death among their crews. But a more 
imposing danger now assailed them. 

3. On the 24th of July a tremendous hurricane came on, 
attended with all the horrors of a tropical storm. The 
heavens became gradually darker, until they assumed a 
pitchy hue ; the lightnings were incessant, and the thunder 
seemed to burst immediately above the tops of the masts ; 
the wind blew with so much fury, that sails were torn 
from the yards, masts were carried away, and the sea, roll- 
ing in huge waves over their decks, swept off every thing 
that could be displaced, and entering the holds, it reduced 
many of their cargoes to ruin. In this awful tempest, the 
ships of the fleet were separated, and the ketch, unable to 
weather the storm, foundered at sea, and all her crew were 
ost. Leaving the other ships for a season, we must now fol- 
ow the Sea Adventure, in which the three principal com- 
nanders had embarked together. 

4. This stout vessel was heavily laden with provisions, 
ind carried out the commission for the new government in 
Virginia. Her safety was all-important, but it seemed im- 
possible that she could survive. A leak admitted streams 
)f water, and incessant pumping for three days and four 
lights could scarcely keep her afloat. During all this 
ime the venerable Somers kept the deck. His gray locks 
streamed in the tempest, and were saturated with rain, yet 
lis self-possession never deserted him. Even when his ex- 
lausted crew abandoned all hope, and staving the spirit- 
jasks, endeavored to drown thought in intoxication, he 


retained his calmness, and was the first to discover land. 
The ship struck the ground about half a mile from the shore, 
and was thrown in such a position between two rocks, that 
all on board were easily saved, 

5. The island on which they were wrecked was one of 
the well-known Bermuda group, lying in the Atlantic, about 
six hundred miles from the American coast. They have 
never been remarkable for their fertility ; but their climate 
is charming. When approached from the seaboard they 
present a most picturesque appearance ; and they have been 
invested with peculiar interest by the notice of an English 
poet, who once passed a season of his life within their rocky 

6. The isle they first reached was uninhabited. It had 
previously been visited by the Spaniards, and in 1591 an 
English ship had been cast away upon its coast, but now 
none of the human species were left. It was, moreover, 
supposed to be enchanted. Strange tales of demons and 
monsters of fantastic form had been received, and the Eng- 
lish sailors were alive to all the superstitions of their class. 
But they had no reason to complain of inhospitable treat- 
ment in this fairy land. The air was pure, the heavens 
were serene, the waters abounded with excellent fish, the 
beach was covered with turtles, birds of many kinds en- 
livened the forests, and the whole island swarmed with 
hogs, which were so numerous that very little labor suf- 
ficed to procure plenty. 

1. Amid this profusion they remained nine months. The 
loveliness of nature had not subdued human passions. 
Somers was envied, and the commanders lived apart ; yet 
the influence of the £ood admiral was exerted to have daily 
worship, and on Sunday divine service was performed, and 
two sermons were preached by Mr. Bucke, their chaplain. 
In the brief space of this sojourn one marriage was cele- 
brated, two children were born and baptized, five persons 
died, of whom one was murdered ; and when they left the 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 95 

island the murderer escaped, and, with another culprit, 
remained to be afterward instrumental in a singular dis- 

8. Many were so well pleased with the climate and re- 
sources of this island, that they would willingly have made 
1 their abode. But the admiral longed for Virginia. Two 
vessels were constructed from the cedar of the isle — the 
ower seams were calked with the old cables and other 
sordage saved from the wreck— the upper seams were filled 
with a mixture of lime and turtles' oil, which soon became 
lard as a stone. Sir George Somers had but one single 
)iece of iron in his bark — a bolt in her keel — yet these ves- 
lels proved strong and sea-worthy. They were supplied 
vith such provisions as they had saved from the Adventure, 
md with a large stock of pork from the wild ljogs of the 
sland, cured with salt obtained by crystallizing the sea 
rater on the rocks around them. 

9. Thus prepared, they set sail on the 10th of May, and 
teered directly for Virginia. Their vessels bore the appro- 
bate names of Patience and Deliverance ; yet in the brief 
oyage unexpected dangers severely tried the one, and 
hreatened the existence of the other. At length, on the 
4th, they made Point Comfort, and sailed up the river to 
he long-sought settlement. R. R. Howison. 

Spell and define — 

. Equipped. 5. Picturesque. 1. Culprit. 

Enterprise, 6. Enchanted. 8. Resources. 

Embarked. Fantastic. Crystallizing. 

. Assailed. 7. Profusion. 9. Appropriate. 

96 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

lesson xxix. 

Spell and define — 

1. Pil'grims, wandering travel- 18. Or'i-gin, that from which any i 

i ers thing proceeds, the cause. 

7. Chide, to reprove, to blame. Sphere, the vast expanse in 

8. For-lorn', forsaken, destitute. which the heavenly bodies 

9. Mis-deeds', evil actions. appear. The phrase hea-i 
Re-morse', the pain of con- ven's eternal sphere, is used 

science proceeding from figuratively for heaven, 

guilt. 10. Me'te-or, a fiery body pass-j 

12. Infamy, utter disgrace, ing through the air. 

13. Chast'en-ing, afflicting for 


A rest for the weary. 

1. There is a calm for those who weep, 
A rest for weary pilgrims found ; 

They softly lie, and sweetly sleep 
Low in the ground. 

2. The storm that wrecks the wint'ry sky 
No more disturbs their deep repose, 

Than summer evening's latest sigh 
That shuts the rose. 

3. I long to lay this painful head 
And aching heart beneath the soil, 

To slumber in that dreamless bed. 
From all my toil. 

4. For misery stole me at my birth, 
And cast me helpless on the wild : 

I perish : O my mother earth, 
Take home thy child. 

5. On thy dear lap these limbs reclined, 
Shall gently moulder into thee ; 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 97 

Nor leave one wretched trace behind, 
Resembling me. 

6. Hark ! a strange sound affrights mine ear 2 
My pulse, my brain runs wild ; I rave ; 

Ah, who art thou whose voice I hear ? 
" I am the Grave !" 

7. The Grave, that never spake before, 
Hath found, at length, a tongue to chide 2 

Oh, listen ! I will speak no more : 
Be silent, Pride. 

8. " Art thou a wretch, of hope forlorn, 
The victim of consuming care ? 

Is thy distracted conscience torn 
By fell despair ? 

9. " Do foul misdeeds of former times 
Wring with remorse thy guilty breast ? 

And ghosts of unforgiven crimes 
Murder thy rest ? 

10. " Lashed by the furies of the mind, 

From wrath and vengeance would'st thou flee ? 
Ah, think not, hope not, fool, to find 
A friend in me ! 

11. " By all the terrors of the tomb, 
Beyond the power of tongue to tell, 

By the dread secrets of my womb, 
By death and hell, 

12. " I charge thee, live ! repent and pray ; 
In dust thine infamy deplore : 

There yet is mercy ; go thy way 

And sin no more. 

98 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

13. " Whate'er thy lot, whoe'er thou be, 
Confess thy folly, kiss the rod, 

And in thy chastening sorrows see 
The hand of God. 

14. "A bruised reed He will not break ; 
Afflictions all His children feel, 

He wounds them for His mercy's sake, 
He wounds to heal. 

, 15. " Humbled beneath His mighty hand, 
Prostrate His Providence adore : 

'Tis done ! arise ! He bids thee stand 
To fall no more. 

16. " Now, traveller in the vale of tears ! 
To realms of everlasting light, 

Through time's dark wilderness of years, 
Pursue thy flight." 

17. There is a calm for those that weep, 
A rest for weary pilgrims found ; 

And while the mouldering ashes sleep, 
Low in the ground, 

18. The soul, of origin divine, 

God's glorious image freed from clay, 
In heaven's eternal sphere shall shine, 
A star of day ! 

19. The sun is but a spark of fire, 
A transient meteor in the sky : 

The soul, immortal as its sire, 
Shall never die. 




Spell and define 

Repose. Resembling. 

Dreamless. 6„ Affrights. 

Misery. 8. Victim. 11. Terrors. 

Reclined. Conscience. 19. Transient. 

10. Vengeance. 


Spell and define — 

Pa'tri-ARCH, the father and rul- 
er of a family. Among the 
Jews, distinguished men 
were called by this name. 

Com-po-si'tion, a written 

4. Lst-teg'ri-ty, uprightness. 
6. This'tle, a kind of prickly 
Coc'kle, a worthless plant or 


1. I cannot forbear making an extract of several pas- 
iges, which I have always read with great delight, in the 
ook of Job. It is the account, which that holy man gives, 
Phis behavior in the days of his prosperity, and, if consid- 
•ed only as a human composition, is a finer picture of a 
laritable and good-natured man than is to be met with in 
ay other author. 

2. " Oh, that I were as in months past, as in the days 
hen God preserved me ; when his candle shined upon my 
ead, and when by his light I walked through darkness ; 
r hen the Almighty was yet with me ; when my children 
r ere about me ; when I washed my steps with butter, and 
le rock poured out rivers of oil. 

3. " When the ear heard me, then it blessed me : and 
r hen the eye saw me, it gave witness to me : because I 
elivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him 
lat had none to help him. The blessing of him that was 
sady to perish came upon me : and I caused the widow's 


sterling's southern fourth reader. 

heart to sing for joy. x was eyes to the blind, and feeti 
was I to the lame. I was a father to the poor: and the 
cause which I knew not I searched out. 

4. " Did not I weep for him that was in trouble ? Was 
not my soul grieved for the poor? Let me be weighed in 
an even balance that God may know mine integrity. If T 
did despise the cause of my man-servant or of my maid-ser- 
vant when they contended with me ; what then shall I 


when God riseth up ? and when he visiteth, what shall 1 
answer him ? Did not he that made me make him also ? 

5. " If I have withheld the poor from their desire, or have 
caused the eyes of the widow to fail ; or have eaten nrvj 
morsel myself alone, and the fatherless hath not eater 
thereof; if I have seen any perish for want of clothing, oi 
any poor without covering ; if his loins have not blessec 
me, and if he were not warmed with the fleece of my sheep 
if I have lifted up my hand against the fatherless, wher 
I saw my help in the gate : then let mine arm fall fron 
my shoulder-blade, and mine arm be broken from the bone 

6. "I rejoiced not at the destruction of him that hatec 
me, nor lifted up myself when evil found him : neither hav* 
I suffered my mouth to sin by wishing a curse to his soul 
The stranger did not lodge in the street ; but I opened M 
doors to the traveller. If my land cry against me, and th 
furrows thereof complain ; if I have eaten the fruits thereo: 
without money, or have caused the owners thereof to los» 
their life : let thistles grow instead of wheat, and cockle ir 
stead of barley." Addison. 

1. Passages. 
Chant able. 

2. Preserved. 

3. Delivered. 

Spell and define- 


4. Grieved. 

5. Morsel. 


6. Destruction. 


Spell and define — 

IT-ni-ver/si-ty, an institution 4. Pro-ceed'ed, began, 
of learning of the highest Bounty, liberality in bestowing 

order. gifts and favors. 

Per-plex'i-ty, confusion of 5. Af-fec ted, touched in feel- 



Coun te-nance, expression of Ap'proach, draw near to. 
the face. 


1. A young man of eighteen or twenty, a student in a 
niversity, took a walk one day with a professor, who 
'■as commonly called the "student's friend," such was 
is kindness to the young men it was his office to instruct, 
virile they were walking together, and the professor was 
3ekingto lead the conversation to grave subjects, they saw 

pair of old shoes lying in their path, which they supposed 
) belong to a poor man who was at work close by, and 
r ho had nearly finished his day's task. 

2. The young man turned to the professor, saying, " Let 
s play the man a trick ; we will hide his shoes, and con- 
sal ourselves behind these bushes, and watch his perplex- 
y when he cannot find them." " My young friend," 
Qswered the professor, "we must never amuse ourselves 
t the expense of the poor. But you are rich, and you may 
ive yourself a much greater pleasure by means of this poor 
tan. Put a dollar into each shoe, and then we will hide our- 

3. The student did so, and then placed himself with the 
rofessor, behind the bushes close by, through which they 
ould easily watch the laborer, and see whatever wonder or 
oy he might express. The poor man had soon finished 
is work, and came across the field to the path, where he 
ad left his coat and shoes. While he put on the coat, he 
lipped one foot into one of his shoes ; but, feeling some- 


sterling's southern fourth reader. 

tiling hard, lie stooped down and found the dollar. Astoi 
ishment and wonder were seen upon his countenance. B 
gazed upon the dollar, turned it round, and looked agai 
and again ; then he looked around him on all sides, bi 
could see no one. 

4. Now he put the money in his pocket, and proceede 
to put on the other shoe ; but how great was his surpri| 
when he found the other dollar ! His feelings overcan 
him ; he saw that the money was a present, and he fe 
upon his knees, looked up to heaven, and uttered aloud 
fervent thanksgiving, in which he spoke of his wife sic 
and helpless, and his children without bread, whom th 
timely bounty from some unknown hand would save froi 

5. The young man stood there deeply affected, and teai 
filled his eyes. " Now," said the professor, " are you nc 
much better pleased than if you had played your intende 
trick ?" " O, dearest sir," answered the youth, " you ha\ 
taught me a lesson now that I will never forget ! I fe* 
now the truth of the words, which I never before unde 
stood, ' It is better to give than to receive. 5 We shoul 
never approach the poor but with the wish to do thei 
good." Feom the German. 

1. Commonly. 
3. Astonishment. 

Spell and define- 

4. Surprise. 





sterling's southern fourth reader. 103 

lesson xxxii. 

Spell and define — 

3. Re-served', restrained. 5. Dis-crim'i-nat-ing, readily see- 

3. Con cil'i-a-to-ry, tending to ing the difference in tilings, 

secure peace. 8. Mag-NA-nim'i-ty, nobleness of 

Op'u-lence, wealth. soul. 

L Fas'ci-nates, charms, captivates. 9. Du-plic'i-ty, double dealing. 

Daz'zles, overpowers with light. Max'im, established principle. 


1. General Washington was rather above the common 
size, his frame was robust, and his constitution vigorous- 
capable of enduring great fatigue, and requiring a consid- 
erable degree of exercise for the preservation of his health. 
His exterior created in the beholder the idea of strength 
united with manly gracefulness. 

2. His manners were rather reserved than free, though 
they partook nothing of that dryness and sternness which 
accompany reserve when carried to an extreme ; and on all 
proper occasions he could relax sufficiently to show how 
highly he was gratified by the charms of conversation and 
the pleasures of society. His person and whole deportment 
exhibited an unaffected and indescribable dignity, unmingled 
with haughtiness, of which all who approached him were 
sensible ; and the attachment of those who possessed his 
friendship and enjoyed his intimacy, was ardent but always 

3. His temper was humane, benevolent, and conciliatory ; 
but there was a quickness in his sensibility to any thing 
apparently offensive, which experience had taught him to 
watch and correct. In the management of his private af- 
fairs, he exhibited an exact yet liberal economy. His funds 
were not prodigally wasted on capricious and ill-examined 
schemes, nor refused to beneficial though costly improve- 
ments. They remained therefore competent to that ex- 

104 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

pensive establishment which his reputation, added to a hos- 
pitable temper, had in some measure imposed upon him ; 
and to those donations which real distress has a right to 
claim from opulence. 

4. He made no pretensions to that vivacity which fasci- 
nates, or to that wit which dazzles and frequently imposes on 
the understanding. More solid than brilliant, judgment rath- 
er than genius constituted the most prominent feature of his 
character. As a military man he was brave, enterprising, 
and cautious. That malignity which has sought to strip 
him of all the higher qualities of a general, has conceded to 
him personal courage and a firmness of resolution which 
neither dangers nor difficulties could shake. But candor 
will allow him other great and valuable endowments. If 
his military course does not abound with splendid achieve- 
ments, it exhibits a series of judicious measures adapted to 
circumstances, which probably saved his country. 

5. Placed, without having studied the theory, or been 
taught in the school of experience the practice of war, at 
the head of an undisciplined and ill-organized multitude, 
which was unused to the restraints and unacquainted with 
the ordinary duties of the camp, without the aid of officers | 
possessing those lights which the commander-in-chief was 
yet to acquire, it would have been a miracle indeed had 
his conduct been absolutely faultless. But possessing an 
energetic and discriminating mind, on which the lessons 
of experience were never lost, his errors, if he committed 
any, were quickly repaired ; and those measures which the 
state of things rendered advisable were seldom, if ever, 

6. Inferior to his adversary in the numbers, in the equip- 
ment, and in the discipline of his troops, it is evidence of real 
merit, that no great or decisive advantages were ever ob- 
tained over him, and that the opportunity to strike an im- 
portant blow never passed away unused. He has been 
termed the American Fabius ; but those who compare his 


itions to his means will perceive at least as much of Mar- 
jllus as of Fabius in his character. He could not have 
3en more enterprising without endangering the cause he 
3fended. Not relying upon those chances which some- 
mes give a favorable issue to attempts apparently desperate, 
is conduct was regulated by calculations made upon the 
ipacities of his army and the real situation of his country. 

7. In his civil administration, as in his military career, 
ere exhibited ample and repeated proofs of that practical 
ood sense, of that sound judgment which is, perhaps, the 
Lost rare, and is certainly the most valuable quality of the 
uman mind. Devoting himself to the duties of his station, 
ad pursuing no object distinct from the public good, he 
r as accustomed to contemplate from a distance those criti- 
il situations in which the country might probably be 
laced; and to digest, before the occasion required action, 
le line of conduct which it would be proper to observe. 

8. Respecting, as the first magistrate in a free govern- 
ient must ever do, the real and deliberate sentiments of 
le people, their gusts of passion passed over without ruf- 
in£ the smooth surface of his mind. Trusting to the re- 
ecting good sense of the nation for approbation and sup- 
ort, he had the magnanimity to pursue its real interests 
l opposition to its temporary prejudices ; and though far 
*om being regardless of popular favor, he could never 
toop to retain by deserving to lose it. In more instances 
tian one, we find him committing his whole popularity to 
azard, and pursuing steadily, in opposition to a torrent 
diich would have overwhelmed a man of ordinary firm- 
ess, that course which had been dictated by a sense of 

9. No man has ever appeared upon the theatre of public 
ction whose integrity was more incorruptible, or whose 
•rinciples were more perfectly free from the contamination 
f those selfish and unworthy passions which find their 
Lourishment in the conflicts of party. Having no views 



which required concealment, his real and avowed motive 
were the same ; and his whole correspondence does not fu: 
nish a single case from which even an enemy could infej 
that he was capable, under any circumstance, of stoopin 
to the employment of duplicity. 

10. No truth can be uttered with more confidence tha 
that his ends were always upright, and his means alway 
pure. He exhibits the rare example of a politician to whor 
wiles were absolutely unknown, and whose professions t 
foreign governments and to his own countrymen were a 
ways sincere. In him was fully exemplified the real clis 
tinction which ever exists between wisdom and cunning, an 
the importance as well as the truth of the maxim, tha 
" Honesty is the best policy." Hon. John Marshall 

1. Robust. 

2. Deportment. 

Spell and define — 

3. Capricious. 7. Contemplate. 
Beneficial. 8. Regardless. 

4. Malignity. 9. Integrity. 

5. Advisable. Contamination. 

6. Enterprising. 10. Exemplified. 


Spell and define — 

Un-ix-teh-mit'ting, ceaseless. 

Col-lo'qui-al, conversational. 

Al-le'gi-ance, acknowledg- 
ment of authority. 

Ad-ven-ti'tious, coming from 

5. Sys-tem-At'ic, regular, orderlj 
Sal'u-ta-ry, healthful. 
Cor'us-ca-tions, flashes of light' 

7. Ex'qui-site, highly finished. 
Fe-lic'i-ty, happiness. 

dr. franklin's conversational powers. 
1. Never have I known such a fireside companion as Di 
Franklin. Great as he was, both as a statesman and a phi 
losopher, he never shone in a light more winning than whei 
he was seen in a domestic circle. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 107 

2. It was once my good fortune to pass two or three 
weeks with him, at the house of a private gentleman, in the 
back part of Pennsylvania ; and we were confined to the 
house during the whole of that time, by the unintermitting 
constancy and depth of the snow. But confinement could 
never be felt where Franklin was an inmate. His cheer- 
fulness and his colloquial powers spread around him a per- 
petual spring. There was no ambition of eloquence, no 
effort to shine, in any thing that came from him. There 
was nothing which made any demand either upon your 
allegiance or your admiration. 

3. His manner was as unaffected as infancy. It was na- 
ture's self. He talked like an old patriarch ; and his plain- 
ness and simplicity put you at once at your ease, and gave 
you the full and free possession and use of all your faculties. 

4. His thoughts were of a character to shine by their 
own light, without any adventitious aid. They required 
only a medium of vision like his pure and simple style, to 
exhibit to the highest advantage their native radiance and 

5. His cheerfulness was unremitting. It seemed to be as 
much the effect of the systematic and salutary exercise of 
the mind, as of its superior organization. His wit was of 
the first order. It did not show itself merely in occasional 
coruscations ; but, without any effort or force on his part, it 
shed a constant stream of the purest light over the whole 
of his discourse. 

6. Whether in the company of commons or nobles, he 
was always the same plain man ; always most perfectly at 
his ease, his faculties in full play, and the full orbit of his 
genius for ever clear and unclouded. And then the stores 
of his mind were inexhaustible. He had commenced life 
with an attention so vigilant, that nothing had escaped his 
observation, and a judgment so solid, that every incident 
was turned to advantage. 

1. His youth had not been wasted in idleness, nor over- 

108 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

cast by intemperance. He had been all his life a close and 
deep reader, as well as thinker; and by the force of his own 
powers, had wrought up the raw materials, which he had 
gathered from books, with such exquisite skill and felicity, 
that he had added a hundred-fold to their original value 
and justly made them his own. Wm. Wirt. 

Spell and define — 

1. Domestic. 3. Patriarch. Organization. 

2. Constancy. 4. Medium. 6. Faculties. 
Perpetual. 5. Unremitting. Inexhaustible. 


Falls op Towaliga, Ga.— The Falls of Towaliga are 
eight miles from Indian Spring. The stream has its origin 
in Henry county, and pursues a course of seventy miles, & to 
the Ocmulgee, of which it is a tributary. Just before it 
reaches the falls, the bed has a rapid descent for some dis- 
tance, where the surface of the water is broken in rapids. 

The falls, seen from below, make an impressive appear- 
ance. The breadth of the bed is there about three hundred 
feet, and a mass of rocks, at the brow of the first precipice, 
divides it into two sheets, which descend perpendicularly 
about fifty feet, in beautiful foam, made in the course of its 
tumultuous passage down the rapids. Here it is received 
by a deep gulf which suddenly checks its fury; but, before 
it has time to recover its tranquillity, it reaches the brow 
of the second rapids, down which it hurries, with roar and 
turbulence, a distance of two hundred feet, and then pours 
over the second fall, in a current broken into several cas- 
cades, when it soon subsides, below, to comparative quiet- 
ness. The height, roughness, and thick shade of the banks, 
greatly increase the effect of the scene. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 109 

lesson xxxiv. 
Spell and define — 

Mis'tle-toe, an evergreen shrub In-trud'er, one who enters with- 
that grows on trees. out right or welcome. 

Druids, the priests of the ancient Fejst'ny, marshy, boggy. 

Celtic nations. Ma-rine', belonging to the sea. 

In-can-ta'tions, enchantments. Op'ti-cal, relating to sight. 


Well, Robert, where have you been walking this after- 
noon ? said a tutor to one of his pupils, at the close of a 

Robert. I have been to Broom-heath, and so round by 
the windmill, upon Camp-mount, and home, through the 
meadows by the river-side. 

Tutor. Well, that is a pleasant round. 

Robert. I thought it very dull, sir; I scarcely met with a 
single person. I would much rather have gone along the 
:urnpike road. 

Tutor. Why, if seeing men and horses is your object, you 
ivould, indeed, be better entertained on the high road. But 
lid you see William ? 

Robert. We set out together, but he lagged behind in the 
ane, so I walked on and left him. 

Tutor. That was a pity. He would have been company 
or you. 

Robert. Oh, he is so tedious, always stopping to look at 
his thing and that ; I would rather walk alone. I dare 
say he has not got home yet. 

Tutor. Here he comes. Well, William, where have you 
)een ? 

William. Oh, the pleasantest walk ! I went all over 
Broom-heath, and so up to the mill at the top of the mount, 
tud then down among the green meadows by the side of 
he river. 

110 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Tutor. Why, that is just the round Robert has been tak- 
ing ; and he complains of its dulness, and prefers the high 


William. I wonder at that. I am sure I hardly took a 
step that did not delight me, and I have brought home my 
handkerchief Ml of curiosities. 

Tutor. Suppose, then, you give us an account of what 
amused you so much. I fancy it will be as new to Robert] 
as to me. 

William. I will do it readily. The lane leading to the 
heath, you know, is close and sandy ; so I did not delaj: 
there long, but hurried on my way ; however, I spied a very 
curious thing in the hedge. It was an old crab-tree, ouij 
of which grew a great branch of something green, quit* 
different from the tree itself. Here is a branch of it. 

Tutor. Ah, this is mistletoe ; a plant of great fame^ fo 
the use made of it by the Druids of old, in their religiou 
rites and incantations. It bears a slimy white berry, ol 
which bird-lime is made, whence its Latin name of visewt 
It is one of those plants which do not grow in the ground 
by a root of their own, but fix themselves upon othe 
plants ; whence they have been humorously styled " pan 
sitical," as being hangers-on or dependents. It was th 
mistletoe of the oak that the Druids particularly honorec 
William. A little further on I saw a green woodpeck* 
fly to a tree, and run up the trunk like a cat. 

Tutor. That was to seek for insects in the bark, on whic 
they live. They bore holes with their strong bills for th.' 
purpose, and do much damage to the trees by it. 

William. When I got upon the open heath, how charr 
ing it was ! The air seemed so fresh, and the prospect ( 
every side so free and unbounded ! Then it was all co 
ered with gay flowers, many of which I had never observe 
before. There was a flock of lapwings upon a marshy pa 
of the heath that amused me much. As I came near thei 
some of them kept flying round and round, just over n 

sterling's southeen foueth reader. Ill 

head, and crying " pewit " so distinctly one might almost 
fancy they spoke. I thought I should have caught one of 
them, for he flew as if one of his wings was broken, and 
often tumbled close to. the ground ; but as I came near, he 
always contrived to get away. 

Tutor. Ha, ha ! you were finely taken in, then ! This 
was all an artifice of the bird's to entice you away from its 
nest ; for they build upon the bare ground, and their nests 
would easily be observed did they not draw off the atten- 
tion of intruders by their loud cries and counterfeited 

William. I wish I had known that, for he led me a long 
chase, often over shoes in water. However, it was the 
cause of my falling in with an old man and a boy, who were 
cutting and piling up turf for fuel, and I had a good deal 
of talk with them about the manner of preparing the turf, 
and the price it sells at. 

I then took my course up to the wind-mill, on the mount. 
I climbed up the steps of the mill, in order to get a better 
view of the country around. What an extensive prospect ! 
I counted fifteen church-steeples : and I saw several gen- 
tlemen's houses peeping out from the midst of green woods 
and plantations; and I could trace the windings of the 
river all along the low grounds, till it was lost behind a 
ridge of hills. 

From the hill I went straight down to the meadows be- 
low, and walked on the side of a little brook till it entered 
the river, and then I took the path that runs along the 
bank. On the opposite side I observed several little birds 
running along the shore, and making a piping noise. They 
were brown and white, and about as big as a snipe. 

Tutor. I suppose they were sand-pipers — one of the nu- 
merous family of birds that get their living by wading 
among the shallows, and picking up worms and insects. 

William. There were a great many swallows, too, sport- 
ing on the surface of the water, that entertained me with 

112 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

their motions. Sometimes they dashed into the stream ; 
sometimes they pursued one another so quickly that the eye 
could scarcely follow them. In one place, where a high, 
steep sand-bank rose directly above the river, I observed 
many of them go in and out of holes, of which the bank 
was bored full. 

Tutor. Those were sand-martins, the smallest of our four 
species of swallows. They are of a mouse-color above, and 
white beneath. They make their nests and bring up their 
young in these holes, which run to a great depth, and by 
their situation are secure from all plunderers. 

William. A little further, I saw a man in a boat, who 
was catching eels in an odd way. He had a long pole, with 
broad iron prongs at the end, just like Neptune's trident, 
only there were five instead of three. This he pushed 
straight down among the mud in the deepest part of the 
river, and brought up eels sticking between the prongs. 

Tutor. I have seen this method. It is called spearing for 

William. While I was looking at him, a heron came fly- 
ing over my head with his large flagging wings. He alight- 
ed at the next turn of the river, and I crept softly behind 
the bank to watch his motions. He had waded into the 
water as far as his long legs would carry him, and was 
standing with his neck drawn in, looking intently on the 
stream. Presently he dashed his long bill, as quick as 
lightning, into the water, and drew out a fish, which he 
swallowed. I saw him catch another in the same manner. 
He then took alarm at some noise I made, and flew away 
slowly to a wood at some distance, where he settled. 

Tutor Probably his nest was there ; for herons build 
upon the loftiest trees they can find, and sometimes in society 
together, like rooks. Formerly, when these birds were val- 
uer] for the amusement of hawking, many gentlemen had 
their heronries, and a few are still remaining. 

William. I then turned homeward across the meadows, 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 113 

where I stopped awhile to look at a large flock of starlings, 
which kept flying about at no great distance. I could not 
tell at first what to make of them ; for they rose altogether 
from the ground as thick as a swarm of bees, and formed 
themselves into a kind of black cloud, hovering over the field • 
after taking a short round, they settled again, and presently 
rose again in the same manner. I dare say there were hun- 
dreds of them. 

Tutor. Perhaps so ; in the fenny countries their flocks are 
so numerous as to break down whole acres of reeds, by settling 
on them. This disposition of starlings to fly in close swarms 
was remarked even by Homer, who compares the foe flying 
from one of his heroes to a cloud of starlings retiring dismayed 
at the approach of the hawk. 

William. After I had left the meadows, I crossed the corn- 
fields in the way to our house, and passed close by a deep 
marl pit. Looking into it, I saw in one of the sides a cluster 
of what I took to be shells ; and upon going down, I picked 
up a clod of marl, which was quite full of them • but how 
sea-shells could get there, I cannot imagine. 

Tutor. I do not wonder at your surprise, since many phi- 
losophers have been much perplexed to account for the same 
appearance. It is not uncommon to find great quantities of 
shells and relics of marine animals even in the bowels of high 
mountains very remote from the sea. 

William. I got to the high field next to our house just as 
the sun was setting, and I stood looking at it till it was quite 
lost. What a glorious sight ! The clouds were tinged with 
purple and crimson and yellow, of all shades and hues, and 
the clear sky varied from blue to a fine green at the horizon. 
But how large the sun appears just as it sets ! I think it 
seems twice as big as when it is overhead. 

Tutor. It does so ; and you may probably have observed 
the same apparent enlargement of the moon at its rising. 

William. I have ; but pray what is the reason of this ? 

Tutor. It is an optical delusion, depending upon princi- 

1U sterling's southern fourth reader. 

pies which I cannot well explain to you till you know more 
of that branch of science. But what a number of new ideas 
this afternoon's walk has afforded you ! I do not wonder that 
you found it amusing ; it has been very instructing, too. Did 
you see nothing of all these sights, Robert ? 

Robert. I saw some of them, but I did not take particular 
notice of them. 
Tutor. Why not ? 

Robert. I do not know. I did not care about them ; and 
I made the best of my way home. 

Tutor. That would have been right if you had been sent 
on a message ; but as you only walked for amusement, it 
would have been wiser to have sought out as many sources of 
it as possible. But so it is — one man walks through the 
world with his eyes open, and another with them shut ; and 
upon this difference depends all the superiority of knowledge 
the one acquires above the other. 

I have known a sailor who had been in all quarters of 
the world, and could tell you nothing but the signs of thes 
tippling-houses he frequented in different ports, and the price 
and quality of the liquor. On the other hand, a Franklin 
could not cross the English Channel without making some] 
observations useful to mankind. 

While many a vacant, thoughtless youth is whirled 
throughout Europe, without gaining a single idea worth 
crossing a street for, the observing eye and inquiring mind 
find matter for improvement and delight in every ramble in 
town or country„ Do you, then, William, continue to make 
use of your eyes, and you, Robert, learn that eyes were! 
given you to use. Aikin", 

Spell and define — 
Turnpike. Unbounded. Turf. 

Lagged. Lapwings. Plunderers. 

Handkerchief. Continued. Hovering. 

Curiosities. Artifice. Marl-pit. 

Parasitical. Counterfeited. Superiority. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 115 

lesson - xxxv. 

Spell and define — 

Co'gent, powerful, forcible. Fm-vol'i-ty, thoughtless tri- 

The'o-ky, explanation of princi- fling. 

pies. Jeer'ing, mocking, scoffing. 

Fal'la-cy, mistake, deception. Fi-nan'ces, funds belonging to 

Gen-o-ese', an inhabitant of the public treasury. 

Genoa. Pre-sent'i-ment, firm belief or 

A-chieved', accomplished. opinion. 

queen- Isabella's resolve. 
Isabella of Spain — Don Gomez — Columbus. 

Isabella. And so, Don Gomez, it is your conclusion 
that we ought to dismiss the proposition of this worthy 

Don Gomez, His scheme, your majesty, seems to me 
fanciful in the extreme ; but I am a plain, matter-of-fact 
man, and do not see visions and dream dreams, like some. 

Isa. And yet Columbus has given us cogent reasons for 
believing that it is practicable to reach the eastern coast of 
India by sailing in a westerly direction. 

Don G. Admitting that his theory is correct — namely, 
that the earth is a sphere — how would it be possible for 
him to return if he once descended that sphere in the direc- 
tion he proposes ? Would not the coming back be all up- 
hill ? Could a ship accomplish it with even the most fa- 
vorable wind ? 

Columbus. Will your majesty allow me to suggest that 
if the earth isa sphere, the same laws of adhesion and mo- 
tion must operate at every point on its surface ; and the ob- 
jection of Don Gomez would be quite as valid against our 
being able to return from crossing the Strait of Gibraltar. 

Don G. This gentleman, then, would have us believe 
the monstrous absurdity that there are people on the earth 

116 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

who are our antipodes ; who walk with their heads down, 
like flies on the ceiling. 

Col. But, your majesty, if there is a law of attraction 
which makes matter gravitate to the earth, and prevents its 
flying off into space, may not this law operate at every 
point on the round earth's surface ? 

Isa. Truly, it so seems to me, and I perceive nothing 
absurd in the notion that this earth is a globe floating or re- 
volving in space, 

Don G. May it please your majesty, the ladies are 
privileged to give credence to many wild tales which we 
plain, matter-of-fact men, cannot admit. Every step I take 
confutes this visionary idea of the earth's rotundity. 
Would not the blood run into my head if I were standing 
upside down ? Were I not fearful of offending your majes- 
ty, I would quote what the great Lactantius says. 

Isa. We are not vain of our science, Don Gomez, so let 
us have the quotation. 

Don G. " Is there any one so foolish," he asks, " as to 
believe that there are antipodes with their feet opposite to 
ours ; that there is a part of the world in which all things 
are topsy-turvy ; where the trees grow with their branches 
downward, and where it rains, hails, and snows, upward?" 

Col. I have already answered this objection. If there 
are people on the earth who are our antipodes, it should be 
remembered that we are theirs also. 

Don G. Really, that is the very point wherein we mat- 
ter-of-fact men abide by the assurance of our own senses. 
We know that we are not walking with our heads down. 

Isa. To cut short the discussion, you think that the en- 
terprise which the Genoese proposes is one unworthy of our 
serious consideration, and that his theory of an unknown 
shore to the westward of us is a fallacy. 

Don G. As a plain, matter-of-fact man, I must confess 
that I so regard it. Has your majesty ever seen an ambassa- 
dor from this unknown coast ? 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 117 

Isa. Do you, Don Gomez, believe in the existence of a 
world of spirits ? 

Don. G. I accept what the Church says. 

Isa. But have you ever seen an ambassador from that 
unknown world ? 

Don G. Certainly not. By faith we look forward to it. 

Isa. Even so by faith does the Genoese look forward, far 
over the misty ocean, to an undiscovered shore. 

Col. Your majesty is right ; but let it be added that I 
have reasons — oh, most potent and resistless reasons — for 
the faith that is in me ; the testimony of many navigators 
who have picked up articles that must have drifted from 
this distant coast ; the nature of things, admitting that the 
earth is round ; the reports current among the people of one 
of the northern nations, that many years ago their mariners 
had sailed many leagues westward till they reached a shore 
where the grape grew abundantly; these and other con- 
siderations have made it (next to faith in my Saviour) 
the fixed persuasion of my mind that there is a great dis- 
covery reserved for the man who will sail patiently west- 
ward, trusting in God's good providence, and turning not 
back till he has achieved his purpose. 

Don G. Then truly we should never hear of him again. 
Speculation ! mere speculation, your majesty ! When this 
gentleman can bring forward some solid facts that will in- 
duce us plain, matter-of-fact men, to risk money in forward- 
ing his enterprise, it will then be time enough for royalty 
to give it heed. Why, your majesty, the very boys in the 
street point at their foreheads as he passes along. 

Isa. And do you bring forward the frivolity of boys, 
jeering at what they do not comprehend, as an argument 
why Isabella should not give heed to this great and glorious 
scheme— ay, sir, though it should fail, still great and glori- 
ous—urged in language so intelligent and convincing, by 
this grave and earnest man, whom you think to undervalue 
by calling him an adventurer? Know, Don Gomez, that 

118 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

the " absurdity," as you style it, shall be tested, and that 

Don G. Your majesty will excuse me if I remark that I 
have from your royal consort himself the assurance that the 
finances are so exhausted by the late wars that he cannot 
consent to advance the necessary funds for fitting out an 
expedition of the kind proposed. 

Isa. Be mine, then, the privilege! I have jewels, by 
the pledging of which I can raise the amount required ; and 
I have resolved that they shall be pledged to this enterprise 
without any more delay. 

Col Your majesty shall not repent your heroic resolve. 
I will return, your majesty— be sure I will return— and lay 
at your feet such a jewel as never queen wore yet— an im- 
perishable fame— a fame that shall couple with your mem- 
ory the benedictions of millions yet unborn in climes yet 
unknown to civilized man. There is an uplifting presenti- 
ment in my mind — a conviction that your majesty will live 
to bless the hour you came to this decision. 

Don G. A presentiment ? A plain, matter-of-fact man, 
like myself, must take leave of your majesty, if his practical 
common-sense is to be met and superseded by presenti- 
ment ! An ounce of fact, your majesty, is worth a ton of 

Isa. That depends altogether upon the source of the pre- 
sentiment, Don Gomez. If it come from the Fountain of 
all truth, shall it not be good ? 

Don G. I humbly take my leave of your majesty. 


sterling's southern foueth reader. 119 








Spell and define — 
















Spell and define— 

Cou'ri-er, a messenger sent to carry Pre-pos'ter-ous, absurd, contra- 

dispatches. ry to reason. 

Per'ment, commotion, tumult. De-lu'sion, deception, error. 

En-thij'si-asm, violent excitement of Cred'u-lous, easily deceived. 

min<i - Sus-pi'cion, doubt, mistrust. 


Don Gomez — His Secretary. 

Don Gomez. What \ what is this you tell me ? Colum- 
ns returned? A new world discovered ? Impossible ! 

Secretary. It is even so. A courier arrived at the palace 
mt an hour since with the intelligence. Columbus was 
Iriven by stress of weather to anchor in the Tagus. All 
^rtugal is in a ferment of enthusiasm, and all Spain will 
►e equally excited soon. The sensation is prodigious. 

Don G. Oh, it is a trick ! It must be a trick ! 

Sec. But he has brought home the proofs of his visit ; 
old and precious stones, strange plants and animals ; and 
bove all, specimens of a new race of men, copper-colored, 
ith straight hair. 

Don G. Still I say, a trick ! He has been coasting along 
ta African shore, and there collected a few curiosities, which 
e is passing off for proofs of his pretended discoveries. 

120 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Sec. It is a little singular that all his men should be 
leagued with him in keeping up so unprofitable a falsehood. 

Don G. But it is against reason — against common-sense — 
that such a discovery should be made. 

Sec. King John of Portugal has received him with royal 
magnificence — has listened to his accounts, and is persuaded 
that they are true. 

Don G. We shall see — we shall see. Look you, sir, a 
plain, matter-of-fact man, such as I, is not to be taken in by 
any such preposterous story. This vaunted discovery will 
turn out no discovery at all. 

Sec. The king and queen have given orders for prepara- 
tions on the most magnificent scale for the reception of Co- 

Don G. What delusion ! Her majesty is so credulous ! 
A practical, common-sense man, like myself, can find no 
points of sympathy in her nature. 

Sec. The Indians on board the returned vessels are said 
to be unlike any known race of men 

Don G. Very unreliable all that ! I take the common- 
sense view of the thing. I am a matter-of-fact man ; and do 
you remember what I say — it will all turn out a trick ! The 
crews may have been deceived. Columbus may have steered 
a southerly course instead of a westerly. Any thing is pro- 
bable rather than that a coast to the westward of us has 
been discovered. 

Sec. I saw the courier, who told me he had conversed 
with all the sailors ; and they laughed at the suspicion that 
there could be any mistake about the discovery, or that any 
other than a westerly course had been steered. 

Don G. Still I say a trick ! An unknown coast reached 
by steering west ? Impossible ! The earth a globe, and 
men standing with their heads down in space ? Folly ! An 
ignorant sailor from Genoa in the right, and all our learned 
doctors and philosophers in the wrong ? Nonsense ! I'm a 
matter-of-fact man, sir. I will believe what I can see and 



handle and understand. But as for believing in the anti- 
podes — or that the earth is round — or that Columbus has 
discovered land to the west. Ring the bell, sir — call my 
carriage — I will go to the palace and undeceive the king. 

Spell and define — 









Spell and define — 

1. Ad'mi-ral, the commander of 4. Ap-pre-ci-a'tion 

a fleet. 
Mu-nip'i-cbjstce, bounty, liber- 5. 

2. Squad'ron, a division of a fleet. 6. 

3. Ca-par'i-soned, richly adorned. 
Court'iers, attendants of 


proper esti- 

In-spired', divinely commis- 

Ex-u'ber-ant, rich, overflowing-. 

Fer'vid, earnest, eager. 

Vouch-safed', granted, be- 


1. Ferdinand and Isabella, having been informed of the 
return and discoveries of their admiral, by the messenger 
whom he had dispatched from Lisbon, awaited him at Bar- 
celona with honor and munificence worthy the greatness of 
his services. The Spanish nobility came from all the prov- 
inces to meet him. He made a triumphal entry as a prince 
of future kingdoms. 

2. The Indians brought over by the squadron as a living 
proof of the existence of new races of men in these newly 
discovered lands, marched at the head of the procession, 
their bodies painted with divers colors, and adorned with 
gold necklaces and pearls. The animals and birds, the 
unknown plants, and the precious stones collected on these 


122 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

shores, were exhibited in golden basins, carried on the heads 
of Moorish or Negro slaves. 

3. The eager crowd pressed close upon them, and won- 
drous tales were circulated around by the officers and com- 
panions of Columbus. The admiral himself, mounted upon 
a richly caparisoned charger, presented by the king, next 
appeared, accompanied by a numerous cavalcade of court- 
iers and gentlemen. All eyes were directed toward the 
man, inspired of Heaven, who first had dared to lift the 
vail of Ocean. People sought in his face for a visible sign 
of his mission, and thought they could discern one. 

4. The beauty of his features, the thoughtful majesty of 
his countenance, the vigor of youth joined to the dignity 
of riper age, the combination of thought with action, of 
strength with experience, a thorough appreciation of his 
worth, combined with piety toward God, and with grati- 
tude toward his sovereigns, who awarded the honor which 
he brought them as a conqueror, made Columbus then ap- 
pear (as those relate who saw him enter Barcelona) like a 
prophet, or a hero of Holy Writ or Grecian story. 

5. " None could compare with him," they say, " all felt 
him to be the greatest or the most fortunate of men." Fer- 
dinand and Isabella received him on their throne, shaded 
from the sun by a golden canopy. They rose up before 
him, as though he had been an inspired messenger. They 
made him sit on a level with themselves, and listened to the 
solemn and circumstantial account of his voyages. 

6. At the end of the recital, which habitual eloquence 
had colored with his exuberant imagination and impreg- 
nated with fervid enthusiasm, the king and queen, moved 
even to tears, fell on their knees and repeated the "Te 
Deum," a hymn of thanksgiving, for the greatest conquest 
that the Almighty had ever yet vouchsafed to sovereigns. 

1. Couriers were instantly dispatched to carry the won- 
drous news and fame of Columbus to all the courts of Eu- 
rope. The obscurity with which he had until then been 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 


urrounded changed to a brilliant renown, filling the earth 
rith his name. His discovery became the subject of con- 
versation for the world. This was in the year 1493. 

Spell and define — 







4. Combination. 

5. Canopy. 







lessor- xxxviii. 
Spell and define — 

. Res-to-Ra'tion, replacing in a 7. Syn'o-nyms, words having the 

former condition. same meaning. 

. Ef-fer-ves'cence, commotion. 8, Syc'o-phants, mean flatterers. 

. Dis-GUIs'es, false appearances. 10. Whee'dle, flatter, coax. 

, Hag'gled, hesitated and cavil- 11. Au'di-ence, interview, 


1. Charles the Second, of England, on his restoration to 
be throne of his ancestors, was more loved by the people 
tian any of his predecessors had ever been. The calami- 
nes of his house, the heroic death of his father, his own 
>ng sufferings and romantic adventures, made him an ob- 
ect of tender interest. His return had delivered the coun- 
ty from an intolerable bondage. 

2. He had received from nature excellent parts and a 
appy temper. His education had been such as might have 
een expected to develop his understanding, and to form 
im to the practice of every public and private virtue. He 
ad passed through all varieties of fortune, and had seen 
oth sides of human nature. He had, while very young, 
een driven forth from a palace to a life of exile, penury, 
ad danger 

124 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

3. He had, at the age when the mind and body are in 
their highest perfection, and when the first effervescence of 
boyish passions should have subsided, been recalled from 
his wanderings to wear a crown. He had been taught, by 
bitter experience, how much baseness, perfidy, and ingrati- 
tude, may lie hid under the obsequious demeanor of court- 
iers. He had found, on the other hand, in the huts of the 
poorest, true nobility of soul. 

4. When wealth was offered to any who would betray 
him, when death was denounced against all who should 
shelter him, cottagers and serving-men had kept his secret 
truly, and had kissed his hand, under his mean disguises 
with as much reverence as if he had been seated on hit 
ancestral throne. From such a school it might" have beer 
expected that a young man who wanted neither abilities 
nor amiable qualities would have come forth a great and 
good king. 

5. Charles came forth from that school with social habits 
with polite and engaging manners, and with some talen 
for lively conversation ; addicted beyond measure to sensua 
indulgence, fond of sauntering and of frivolous amusements 
incapable of self-denial and exertion, without faith in hu 
man virtue or in human attachment, without desire of re 
nown, and without sensibility to reproach. 

6. According to him, every person was to be bought 
But some people haggled more about their price thai 
others ; and when the haggling was very obstinate an< 
very skilful, it was called by some fine name. The chiej 
trick by which clever men kept up the price of their abilij 
ties was called integrity. 

7. The love of God, the love of country, the love of fam 
ily, the love of friends, were phrases of the same sort — de 
licate and convenient synonyms for the love of self. Thinkl 
ing thus of mankind, Charles naturally cared very littll 
what they thought of him. Honor and shame were scarce! 
ly more to him than light and darkness to the blind. Hil 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 125 

contempt of flattery has been highly commended, but seems, 
vhen viewed in connection with the rest of his character, 

deserve no commendation. 

8. It is possible to be below flattery as well as above it. 
)ne who trusts nobody will not trust sycophants. One 
vho does not value real glory will not value its counterfeit. 

1 is creditable to Charles's temper that, ill as he thought of 
lis species, he never became a misanthrope. He saw little 
n men but what was hateful. Yet he did not hate them. 
tfay, he was so far humane that it was highly disagreeable 
o him to see their sufferings or to hear their complaints. 

9. This, however, is a sort of humanity which, though 
jniable and laudable in a private man whose power to 
lelp or hurt is bounded by a narrow circle, has in princes 
>ften been rather a vice than a virtue. More than one 
veil-disposed ruler has given up whole provinces to rapine 
md oppression, merely from a wish to see none but happy 
aces round his own board and in his own walks. 

10. No man is fit to govern great societies who hesitates 
ibout disobliging the few who have access to him for the 
ake of the many whom he will never see. The facility of 
Charles was such as has perhaps never been found in any 
nan of equal sense. He was a slave, without being a dupe. 
Worthless men and women, to the very bottom of whose 
learts he saw, and whom he knew to be destitute of affec- 
ion for him and undeserving of his confidence, could easily 
wheedle him out of titles, places, domains, state secrets, 
,nd pardons. 

11. He bestowed much ; yet he neither enjoyed the pleas- 
Lre nor acquired the fame of beneficence. He never gave 
pontaneously ; but it was painful to him to refuse. The 
onsequence was, that his bounty generally went, not to 
hose who deserved it best, nor even to those whom he 
iked best, but to the most shameless and importunate suit- 
>r who could obtain an audience. 

12. The motives which governed the political conduct 

126 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

of Charles the Second differed widely from those by which 
his predecessor and his successor were actuated. He was 
not a man to be imposed upon by the patriarchal theory of' 
government, and the doctrine of divine right. He was 
utterly without ambition. He detested business, and 
would sooner have abdicated his crown than have under- 
gone the trouble of really directing the administration. 

13. Such was his aversion to toil, and such his ignorance 
of affairs, that the very clerks who attended him when he 
sat in council could not refrain from sneering at his frivo- 
lous remarks, and at his childish impatience. Neither 
gratitude nor revenge had any share in determining his 
course ; for never was there a mind on which both services 
and injuries left such faint and transitory impressions. 

14. He wished merely to be a king such as Louis the 
Fifteenth of France afterward was; a king who could 
draw without limit on the treasury for the gratification of 
his private tastes, who could hire with wealth and honors 
persons capable of assisting him to kill the time, and who, 
even when the state was brought by maladministration to 
the depths of humiliation and to the brink of ruin, could 
still exclude unwelcome truth, and refuse to see and hear 
whatever might disturb his luxurious repose. 

15. For these ends, and for these ends alone, he wished 
to obtain arbitrary power, if it could be obtained without 
risk or trouble. In the religious disputes which divided 
his Protestant subjects his conscience was not at all inter- 
ested. For his opinions oscillated in a state of content- 
ed suspense between infidelity and popery. But, though 
his conscience was neutral in the quarrel between the 
Episcopalians and the Presbyterians, his taste was by no 
means so. 

16. His favorite vices were precisely those to which the! 
Puritans were least indulgent. He could not get through 
one day without the help of diversions which the Puritans 
regarded as sinful. As a man eminently well-bred and 



keenly sensible of the ridiculous, he was moved to con- 
temptuous mirth by the Puritan oddities. 

17. He had, indeed, some reason to dislike the rigid sect. 
He had, at the age when the passions are most impetuous, and 
when levity is most pardonable^ spent some months in Scot- 
land, a king in name, but in fact a state prisoner in the 
hands of austere Presbyterians. Not content with requir- 
ing him to conform to their worship and to subscribe 
their covenant, they had watched all his motions, and lec- 
tured him on all his youthful follies. 

18. He had been compelled to give reluctant attendance 
at endless prayers and sermons, and might think himself 
fortunate when he was not insolently reminded from the 
pulpit of his own frailties, of his father's tyranny, and of 
his mother's idolatry. Indeed he had been so miserable 
during this part of his life that the defeat which made him 
again a wanderer might be regarded as a deliverance rather 
than as a calamity. Under the influence of such feelings as 
these, Charles was desirous to depress the party which had 
resisted his father. Macaulay. 

Spell and define — 

1. Predecessor. 5. Sauntering. 11. Spontaneously. 
Adventures. Renown. Importunate. 

2. Develop. 7. Commendation. 12. Abdicated. 
Varieties. 8. Counterfeit. Administration. 

3. Obsequious. Misanthrope. 13. Aversion. 
Demeanor. 9. Laudable. Transitory. 

128 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

lesson xxxix. 
Spell and define — 

2. Ham'let, a small village. 19. Mo'loch, a god of the Am- 

3. Tu'mu-ltjs, a hillock raised monites, to whom human 

over the dead. sacrifices were offered. 

5. Pbi-mb'val, original, primi- 20. Yearn'ing, longing desire. 

t | ve 26. Ram'part, fortification. 

7. Ef-fac'ing, "blotting out. 28. Lithe, supple, limber. 

17. Flaunt'ing, making a dis- 30. Ey'ry, eagle's nest, 


1. Soft is the veil of moonlight o'er the waters, 
Soft is the swell, upon the shore, of billows, 
Soft, in the distance, the great city's spires, 

And soft the breezes. 

2. Peace is upon the land and on the ocean ; 
Peaceful the slumbers of this ocean hamlet ; 
And the blue concave, by a cloud unshadowed, 

Looks loving peace. 

3. Before us sleeps a mound, whose solemn shadow 
Beseems the red man's tumulus of ages, 

As keeping in its deep and vaulted chambers 
A realm of dead. 

4. With gentle light the moon stoops down to hallow 
The deep repose that wakes not to sweet voices ; 
She leaves her smiles, where sad, in seasons vanished, 

$Ian left but tears. 

5. No sleepless bird is heard, with cry or music, 
Unsuited to the quiet, deep and sacred, 
Where silence, in her own primeval temple, 

Still reigns supreme. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 129 

6. Who that beholds that ocean wrapt in brightness ; 
Who that enjoys embrace with these sweet zephyrs ; 
That feels the beauty and the calm about him, 

Would dream of strife ? 

7. Would dream of tempests raging o'er this ocean ; 
Clouds in that azure vault, its charm effacing ; 
And for this breeze, so meek, yet full of fondness, 

Would look for storm ? 

8. Yet will the tempest, with a wild transition, 
Stifle these gentle breathings of the zephyr, 
While great tornadoes sweep the face of heaven, 

With all its charms ! 

9. Yet will the seas, in beauty now reposing, 

Boil up in madness and o'erthrow their barriers, 
Defacing lawny shore and verdant meadow, 
Now blest with peace. 

10. Thus in a moment — let the foe but threaten — 
That silent mound becomes a fiery fortress, 
Whose flashing death-bolts, hurtling o'er the waters, 

Ring out his doom ! 

11. Such awful change of old this shore hath witnessed, 
When first our young republic, bold but feeble, 
Claimed, though at peril of all wreck of fortune, 

Her place of pride. 

12. Thus calm the seas, when o'er the waters raging, 

Rushed, swollen with wrath, the giant form of Britain, 
Her thunders hurling on our peaceful hamlets, 
With hate of hell ! 

13. Thus silent lay our bulwarks of palmetto, 
Behind them little groups of youthful heroes, 
Waiting the signal when, with answering thunders, 
To meet her wrath. 

130 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

14. How patient was their watch beneath that banner, 
The light blue stream, lighted by our crescent, 
That showed the modest hope that warmed their 


In that dark hour ! 

15. How doubtful, yet how fearless of the struggle, 
When, in the strength assured of thousand battles, 
Britain, in armor, 'gainst the youthful shepherd 

Came fiercely on ! 

16. Doubtful our young men stood, but undespairing, 
Not blind to all the fearful odds against them, 
But sworn in faith, that finds it better falling 

In fight than fear ! 

17. How beautiful, as serpents fanged with venom, 
Glide the swans of battle to the conflict, 
Their streamers flaunting with Britannia's lion, 

Rampant in red ! 

18. How silently they moored beneath our fortress, 
Unmuzzled their grim ministers of vengeance, 
And waited but the signal, to send terror 

Among our sons ! 

19. One awful pause preceded the wild tempest : 
Then roared the storm, and fell the hail of battle, 
A thousand fires were lighted, in a moment, 

At Moloch's shrine ! 

20. One look of yearning to the distant city, 

"Where hung, in tears and fondness, wives and moth- 
Forms of most fond delight and dear devotion, 
Weeping in prayer : 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 131 

21. And then, the brave hearts of our youthful warriors, 
Nerved with new courage by those sweet spectators, 
Conscious what hopes and eyes were set upon them, 

Rushed to the strife ! 

22. Thunder for thunder, and defiant voices, 

Bore witness to the love that faced that conflict — 
How the brave spirits, battling for their homesteads, 
Defied the Fates ! 

23. Through the long day of summer, still unshaken, 
They stood beside their cannon, while each broadside 
Shook their frail, simple bastions of palmetto, 

But shook no hearts. 

24. There Moultrie coolly stands, the scene surveying, 
Ranging his muzzles on each mighty frigate, 
Speeding each fearful missile on its mission 

Of blood and wreck. 

25. There Marion ministers, his young lieutenant — 
Wheels the swift piece, and sights the flaming can- 

Or, when the bullet rends the reeling vessel, 
Shouts loud with cheer ! 

26. There stout McDonald, slain upon the rampart, 
The first brave martyr in the fearful battle, 
Shrieks, as he falls, " I die, my gallant comrades, 

But not our cause I" 

27. Down sinks the crescent streamer of the fortress, 
While o'er the city sudden darkness lowers, 

As if a star, the only one in heaven, 
Had sunk in night. 

28. But lo ! it rises from the cloud, and waving, 
Reveals the lithe and active form of Jasper. 

132 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

He plucks it from the breach, and rears it proudly 
Through all the storm ! 

29. If then one heart had trembled in its terror, 

It gathers hope and pride from that glad omen, 
And hears the whispered cry from each fond mother, 
" Be strong, my son !" 

30. And they were strong, as for the rock, the eagle, 
Who hears the cry of young ones in his eyry, 
Assailed by subtlest foes, and bends his pinion 

To guard his nest. 

31. Day wanes, and Night hangs out ner starry banner, 
Blue spread the curtains of the sky for slumber, 
Peace soars aloft, as if in prayer imploring 

For peace below : 

32. But still the cannon thundered with its mission ; 
Still spoke fierce music to the hearts of valor, 
Still shouted high the brave and shrieked the dying 

Till midnight fell ! 

33. The lion banner sank, at length, in darkness, 
The crescent soared, in every eye triumphant, 
While in the distant city rose the shouting 

Of hearts made glad. 

34. With dawn, the shattered hulks to sea were drifting, 
Upon the shores the gentle waves were breaking ; 
And, with the triumph of our infant valor, 

Came peace once more ! 


sterling's southern fourth reader. 133 

Spell and define — 

2. Concave. 

3. Realm. 

4. Vanished. 

7. Azure. 

8. Transition. 

9. Barriers. 


10. Hurtling, 
13. Bulwarks. 

17. Venom. 

19. Shrine. 

22. Defiant. 

23. Bastions. 
30. Subtlest. 
34. Hulks. 


Spell and define — 
I Bourn, limit, bound. 3. Balm, aromatic tree or shrub. 

I Realm, kingdom, region. Soothed', made calm, softened 

1 int nras, colorings. Blended, mingled. 


1. Time is a river deep and wide ; 

And while along its banks we stray, 
We see our loved ones o'er its tide 
Sail from our sight, away, away ; 
Where are they sped— they who return 

No more to glad our wandering eyes ? 
They've passed from life's contracted bourn, 
To land unseen, unknown, that lies 
Beyond the river. 

2. 'Tis hid from view, but we may guess 
How beautiful that realm must" be ; 
For gleamings of its loveliness 

In visions granted, oft we see. 
The very clouds, that o'er it throw 

Their veil, unraised for mortal sight, 
With gold and purple tintings glow, 
Reflected from the glorious light 
Beyond the river. 

134 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

3. And gentle airs, so sweet, so calm, 

Steal sometimes from that viewless sphere ; 
The mourner feels their breath of balm, 

And soothed sorrow dries the tear. 
And sometimes listening ear may gain 

Entrancing sound that hither floats — 
The echo of a distant strain 

Of harps, and voices, blended notes, 
Beyond the river. 

4. There are our loved ones in their rest ; 

They've crossed time's river ; now no more 
They heed the bubbles on its breast, 

Nor feel the storms that sweep its shore. 
But there pure love can live, can last ; 

They look for us their home to share — 
When we in turn away have passed, 

What joyful greetings wait us there, 

Beyond the river ! N. O. Creole. 


Spell and defi?ie — 

2. Fa-tal'i-ty, a fixed course of 9. Re-it'er-at-ed, repeated agahi 

things. and again. 

3. Reefed, having a portion of 11. Mar'i-ners, seamen. 

the sails folded up and made 13. Lee'ward, the part towan 

fast to the yard. which the wind blows. 

Gun'wale, the upper edge of 16. Stream' ered, filled with nai 

a ship's side. row stripes like flags o| 

4. Im-mer'sion, the act of plung- streamers. 

ing into a fluid until covered. 18. Fluc-td-a'tions, risings an< 
8. Sock'ets, hollow places which fallings of the waves, 

receive something. 


1. You have often asked me to describe to you on pape 
an event in my life to which, at the distance of thirt; 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 135 

years I cannot look back without horror. No words can 
give an adequate image of the miseries I suffered during 
that fearful night ; but I shall try to give you something 
like a faint shadow of them, that from it your soul may 
conceive what I must have suffered. 

2. I was, you know, on my voyage back to my native 
country, after an absence of five years spent in unremitting 
toil in a foreign land, to which I had been driven by a sin- 
gular fatality. Our voyage had been most cheerful and 
prosperous, and, on Christmas day, we were within fifty 
leagues of port. Passengers and crew were all in the high- 
est spirits, and the ship was alive with mirth and jollity. 

3. The ship was sailing at the rate of seven knots an 
hour. A strong snow-storm blew, but steadily and with- 
out danger ; and the ship kept boldly on her course, close- 
reefed, and mistress of the storm. While leaning over the 
gunwale, admiring the water rushing by like a foaming 
cataract, by some unaccountable accident I lost my bal- 
ance, and in an instant fell overboard into the sea. 

4. I remember a convulsive shuddering all over my body, 
and a hurried leaping of my heart, as I felt myself about to 
lose hold of the vessel, and afterward a sensation of the 
most icy chilliness, from immersion in the waves, but noth- 
ing resembling a fall or precipitation. When below the 
water^ I think that a momentary belief rushed across my 
mind, that the ship had suddenly sunk, and that I was but 
one of a perishing crew. I imagined that I felt a hand, 
with long fingers, clutching at my legs, and made violent 
efforts to escape, dragging after me, as I thought, the body 
if some drowning wretch. 

5. On rising to the surface, I recollected in a moment 
svhat had befallen me, and uttered a cry of horror, which 
s in my ears to this day, and often makes me shudder, as 
f it were the mad shriek of another person in extremity 
)f perilous agony. Often have I dreamed over again that 
lire moment, and the cry I utter in my sleep, is said to be 

136 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

something more horrible than a human voice. No ship 
was to be seen. She was gone for ever. 

6. The little, happy world to which, a moment before, 
I had belonged, had been swept by, and I felt that God 
had flung me at once from the heart of joy, delight, and 
happiness, into the uttermost abyss of mortal misery and 
despair. Yes! I felt that the Almighty God had done 
this, that this was an act, a fearful act of Providence, and 
miserable worm that I was, I thought that the act was 
cruel, and a sort of wild, indefinite, objectless rage and 
wrath assailed me, and took for a while the place of that 
first shrieking terror. I gnashed my teeth, and cursed my- 
self, and with bitter tears and yells, blasphemed the name 
of God. 

7. It is true, my friend, that I did so. God forgave that 
wickedness. The Being, whom I then cursed, was in His 
tender mercy not unmindful of me— of me, a poor, blind, 
miserable, mistaken worm. But the waves dashed over 
me, and struck me on the face, and howled at me ; and the 
winds yelled, and the snow beat like drifting sand into my 
eyes, and the ship, the ship was gone, and there was I left 
to struggle, and buffet, and gasp, and sink, and perish, 
alone, unseen and unpitied by man, and, as I thought, too. 
by the everlasting God. 

8. I tried to penetrate the surrounding darkness with my 
glaring eyes, that felt as if leaping from their sockets ; and, 
saw, as if by miraculous power, to a great distance througi 
the night: hut no ship; nothing but white-crested waves 
and the dismal noise of thunder. 

9. I shouted, shrieked, and yelled, that I might be hearc 
by the crew, till my voice was gone, and that, too, when | 
knew that there were none to hear me. At last I becaim 
utterly speechless, and, when I tried to call aloud, then 
was nothing but a silent gasp and convulsion, while th. 
waves came upon me like stunning blows, reiterated, an<i 
drove me along like a log of wood or a dead animal. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 137 

10. All this time, I was not conscious of any act of swim- 
ning ; but I soon found that I had instinctively been exert- 
ng all my power and skill, and both were requisite to keep 
ue alive in the tumultuous wake of the ship. Something 
truck me harder than a wave. What it was I knew not, 
>ut I grasped it with a passionate violence ; for the hope 
I salvation came suddenly over me, and with a sudden tran- 
ition from despair, I felt that I was rescued. 

11. I had the same thought as if I had been suddenly 
eaved on shore by a wave. The crew had thrown over- 
>oard every thing they thought could afford me the slight- 
st chance of escape from death, and a hencoop had drifted 
oward me. At once all the stories I had ever read, of 
lariners miraculously saved at sea, rushed across my re- 
ollection. I had an object to cling to, which I knew would 
rolong my existence. 

12. I was no longer helpless on the cold weltering world 
f waters ; and the thought that my friends were thinking 
f me, and doing all they could for me, gave to me a won- 
erful courage. I may yet pass the night in the ship, I 
nought ; and I looked round eagerly to hear the rush of 
er prow, or to see through the snowdrift the gleaming of 
er sails. 

13. This was but a momentary gladness. The ship, I 
new, could not be far off, but, for any good she could do 
o me, she might as well have been in the heart of the At- 
intic Ocean. Ere she could have altered her course, I 
lust have drifted a long way to leeward, and in that dim, 
nowy night, how was such a speck to be seen ? I saw a 
ash of lightning, and then there was thunder. It was the 
hip firing a gun, to let me know, if still alive, that she was 
omewhere lying to. 

14. But wherefore ? I was separated from her by a dire 
ecessity by many thousand fierce waves, that would not 
?t my shrieks be heard. Each succeeding gun was heard 
linter and fainter, till at last I cursed the sound that, 

138 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

scarcely heard above the hollow rambling of the tempest 
ous sea, told me that the ship was further and further o: 
till she and her heartless crew had left me to my fate. 

15. Why did they not send out all their boats to ro 
round and round all that night through, for the sake ( 
one whom they pretended to love so well? I blame 
blessed, and cursed them by fits, till every emotion of w 
soul was exhausted, and I clung in sullen despair to tr 
wretched piece of wood that still kept me from eternity. 

16. Every thing was now seen in its absolute, dreadfi 
reality. I was a castaway, with no hope of rescue, 
was broad daylight, and the storm had ceased ; but clouc 
lay round the horizon, and no land was to be seen. Wh; 
dreadful clouds ! Some black as pitch, and charged wit 
thunder ; others like cliffs of fire, and here and there a 
streamered over with blood. It was indeed a sullen, wratli 
ful, and despairing sky. 

1 7. The sun itself was a dull, brazen orb, cold, dead, an 
beamless. I beheld three ships afar off, but all their head 
were turned away from me. For whole hours, they would ac 
here motionless to the sea, while I drifted away from them; 
and then a rushing wind would spring up, and carry then 
one by one, into the darkness of the stormy distance. Man 
birds came close to me, as if to flap me with their larg; 
spreading wings, screamed round and round me, and the 
flew away in their strength, and beauty, and happiness. 

1 8. I now felt myself indeed dying. A calm came ove 
me. I prayed devoutly for forgiveness of my sins, an s 
for all my friends on earth. A ringing was in my eari 
and I remember only the hollow fluctuations of the se 
with which I seemed to be blended, and a sinking dowi 
and down an unfathomable depth, which I thought wa 
Death, and into the kingdom of the eternal Future. 

1 9. I awoke from insensibility and oblivion, with a hid 
eous racking pain in my head and loins, and in a place o: 
utter darkness. I heard a voice say, " Praise the Lord ! : 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 139 

My agony was dreadful, and I cried aloud. Wan, glim- 
mering, melancholy lights kept moving to and fro. I heard 
dismal whisperings, and now and then, a pale, silent ghost 
glided by. A hideous din was overhead, and around me 
the fierce dashing of the waves. Was I in the land of 
spirits ? 

20. But why try to recount the mortal pain of my recov- 
ery, the soul-humbling gratitude that took possession of 
my being ? I was lying in the cabin of a ship, and kindly 
tended by a humane and skilful man. I had been picked 
up, apparently dead, and cold. The hand of God was 
there. Adieu, my dear friend. It is now the hour of 
rest, and I hasten to fall down on my knees before the 
merciful Being who took pity upon me, and who, at the 
intercession of our Kedeemer, may, I hope, pardon all my 
sms * Peof. Wilson. 

Spell and define — 

1. Adequate. 8. Glaring. 15. Exhausted. 

2. Jollity. 9. Stunning. 16. Absolute. 


Spell and define — 

I FoimT'ArN, a spring of water. Goad, a pointed instrument 

Cis'tern, a reservoir for water.. used for driving beasts. 

2. Ac-cept'a-ble, agreeable. Ad-mon'ished, warned. 


1. Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, 
while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, 
when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them ; while 
the sun, or the light, or the moon, or the stars, be not 
darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain : in the day 
when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong 
men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease because 

140 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

they are few, and those that look out of the windows be 
darkened, and the doors shall, be shut in the streets when 
the sound of the grinding is low, and he shall rise up at 
the voice of the bird, and all the daughters of music shall 
be brought low; also when they shall be afraid of that 
which is high, and fears shall be in the .way, and the almond 
tree shall flourish, and the grasshopper shall be a burden, 
and desire shall fail : because man goeth to his long home, 
and the mourners go about the streets : or ever the silver 
cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher 
be broken at the fountain, or the wheel broken at the cistern. 
Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was : and the 
spirit shall return unto God who gave it. 

2. Vanity of vanities, saith the preacher; all is vanity. 
And moreover, because the preacher was wise, he still 
taught the people knowledge ; yea, he gave good heed, and 
sought out, and set in order many proverbs. The preacher 
sought to find out acceptable words : and that which was 
written was upright, even words of truth. The words of 
the wise are as goads, and as nails fastened by the masters 
of assemblies, which are given from one shepherd. And 
further, by these, my son, be admonished : of making many 
books there is no end : and much study is a weariness of 
the flesh. 

8. Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter : Fear 
God, and keep his commandments : for this is the whole 
duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judg- 
ment, with every secret thing, whether it be good, or 
whether it b e evil. Bible. 


Immortality of Man. — Why is it that the rainbow and 1 
the cloud come over us, with a beauty that is not of earth,] 
and then pass away and leave us to muse on their faded 
loveliness ? Why is it that the stars which hold their fes- 
tival around their midnight throne, are set above the grasp 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 141 

of our limited faculties, for ever mocking us with their un- 
approachable glory ? And why is it that forms of human 
beauty are presented to our view and taken from us, leav- 
ing the thousand streams of affection to flow back in Alpine 
torrents upon our heart ? We are born for a higher des- 
tiny than that of earth. There is a realm where the rain- 
bow never fades, where the stars will lie out before us like 
islands that slumber on the ocean, and where the beautiful 
being that now passes before us like the meteor, will stay 
in our presence for ever. 


Spell and define — 

I Inter-views, meetings, mu- Ar'bi-ter, one who controls or 

tual sight or view. decides between others. 

I. Aema-ment, a body of naval Test, (the same as yeast,) the 

forces equipped for war; foam of the sea 

ships of war. 4. Az'ure, blue, like the sky. 

Le-vi'a-than, a huge sea ani- 5. Glass'es, mirrors as in a glass. 
mal; here used figuratively 
for ships. 


1. There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, 

There is a rapture on the lonely shore, 
There is society where none intrudes 

By the deep sea, and music in its roar. 

I love not man the less, but Nature more, 
From these our interviews, in which I steal 

From all I may be, or have been before, 
To mingle with the universe and feel 
What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal. 

2. RoU on, thou deep and dark blue ocean, roll ! 

Ten thousaud fleets sweep over thee in vain ; 

142 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Man marks the earth with ruin, his control 
Stops with the shore : upon the watery plain 
The wrecks are all thy deed, nor doth remain 

A shadow of man's ravage, save his own, 
When, for a moment, like a drop of rain, 

He sinks into thy depths with bubbling groan, 

Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined, and unknown. 

3. The armaments which thunderstrike the walls , 

Of rock-built cities, bidding nations quake, 
And monarchs tremble in their capitals ; 

The oak leviathans, whose huge ribs make 

Their clay creator the vain title take 
Of lord of thee, and arbiter of war ; 

These are thy toys, and, as the snowy flake, 
They melt into thy yest of waves, which mar 
Alike the Armada's pride, or spoils of Trafalgar. 

4. Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee ; 

Assyria, Greece, Rome, Carthage— what are they? 
Thy waters wasted them while they were free, 

And many a tyrant since ; their shores obey 

The stranger, slave, or savage ; their decay 
Has dried up realms to deserts : not so thou, 

Unchangeable save to thy wild waves' play ; 
Time writes no wrinkles on thy azure brow ; 
Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now. 

5. Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form 

Glasses itself in tempests ; in all time, 
Calm or convulsed ; in breeze, or gale, or storm, 

Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime 

Dark heaving ; boundless, endless, and subli te, 
The image of Eternity, the throne 

Of the Invisible j even from out thy slime 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 143 

The monsters of the deep are made ; each zone 
Obeys thee ; thou goest forth, dread, fathomless, alone. 

Spell and define — 

Rapture. Bubbling. 4. Empires. 

Intrudes. Uncoffined. Decay. 

Universe. 3. Quake. Wrinkles. 

Control. Capitals. 5. Mirror. 

Wrecks. Mar. Convulsed. 

Vis'ta, a long avenue. 

Biers, frames used for carrying 

the dead. 
Spray, foam. 
Mys'te-ry, anything not easily 

Launch, to go forth. 

having the 



Spell and define — 

white with spra.y. 

4. Beguiled', passed pleasingly. 
Cheer'ing, animating, joyous. 

5. Peace'ful, calm, quiet. 
7. Trib'ute, token of love or re* 



And must it be that we no more shall meet, 

Again to wander on the lonely shore, 
Pressing the Ocean gems beneath our feet, 

And listening to the music of its roar ? 

Oh ! can it be those happy days are o'er, 
And through the vista of all coming years 

Shall memory link thee with the field of gore, 
And with its victims on their bloody biers, 
Shall the fond heart's relief be but a flood of tears ? 

No ! I still see thee, as I saw thee then, 

Beside the margin of the mighty deep, 
At dewy morn, at noon, at even-tide. 

144 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

And while the stars their lonely vigils keep, 

We could not give those precious hours to sleep, 
Amid the beauty that around us lay — 

The Ocean stretching with its boundless sweep, 
The waves that rose and fell in sportive play, 
And met the rude, dark rocks 

And broke in mist-like spray. 

3. The Ocean ! with its veil of mystery, 

"Whene'er I think of it, I think of thee ; 
And how we longed to know the history 

Its wild, dark waves might tell if they were free ; 

And how we gazed, and thought in childish glee, 
If we a few dear ties could only sever, 

How well to launch upon the " deep blue sea," 
And with its crested billows round us ever, 
And the bright stars above, to wander on for ever. 

4. But thou art gone ! A shade of sorrow lies 

"Upon those scenes that once the hours beguiled ; 
The light has fled from out those sunny eyes, 

The lips are sealed that once so sweetly smiled ; 

And destiny has from her wayward child 
Another land mark taken. I stand again alone, 

Before me stretches out the entangled wild — 
The rugged steep, all that I once had known ; 
But many a cheering spot has from the prospect flow 

5. Farewell! the dream of life is passed — 

Full many a hope has perished in thy tomb ; 
We should have known they were too bright to last, 

Like earliest flowers, that soonest lose their bloom 

Sleep, brother, sleep, within thy peaceful bed, 
Far from the field by hurrying masses pressed ; 

The battle's shock, the shout, the foeman's tread, 
Shall never break the quiet of thy rest — 
Calm as an infant's sleep upon its mother's breast. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 145 

6. The Spring shall come, and with its earliest showers, 

The violet bloom above thy lowly head ; 
And gentle hands shall cull the fairest flowers, 

And wreathe their garlands for the honored dead ; 

And many a gentle one, by pity led, 
Shall seek at even-tide thy quiet grave, 

And many a heartfelt tear in silence shed 
For thee, the young, the beautiful, the brave, 
Who for thy country's cause thy life so freely gave. 

7. The only tribute they can give to thee, 

They offer thus upon thy new-made sod ; 
They weep, although they know that thou art free, 
An angel near the shining throne of God. T. C. 

Spell and define — 

. Gore. 3. Sever. 6. Cull. 

. Margin. 4. Destiny, Wreathe. 


Spell and define — 

A-poc'a-lypse, the last book of 4. Pas'tor-al, pertaining to 

the New Testament. shepherds. 

Wielded, used with power. Do-main', territory, country. 

Gorgeous, showy, splendid. 5. Har'mo-nize, cause to agree. 

Im'age-ry, lively description. 6. Ven-er-a'tton, respect and 
Tongues, languages. reverence. 


1. For fifteen hundred years, till John closed the canon 
svith the Apocalypse, and sealed up the prophecy, did 
jk>d continue from time to time to reveal His will, and 
nove men to write it down. No less than from thirty-five 
:o forty men, whose names are mostly known, Avielded the 

146 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

pen under the Holy Spirit's guidance, and have given us a 
book of various contents : laws, histories, psalms, proverbs, 
philosophy, prophecies, biography, epistles. 

2. They were men of various culture, various tastes and 
tempers of mind. They were priests, poets, prophets, war- 
riors, herdsmen, fishermen, scholars. They wrote in the 
deserts, in the schools of the prophets, in the temple, in the 
courts of kings, in Western and Central Asia, amid Gre- 
cian and Roman civilization. They wrote in the purest 
simplicity, in strains of unutterable tenderness, and again 
with a stately and magnificent march of thought and lan- 
guage, in gorgeous imagery, in awful sublimity. 

3. The Bible, therefore, is a book of endless variety, of 
undying freshness, of constant surprises, of which, if we en- 
ter into its spirit, we never tire. It is written, for the most 
part, in two remarkable tongues, the Hebrew, full of pas- 
sion, full of feeling, and full of movement and life ; and the 
Greek, exact, copious, and eminently suited to convey defi- 
nite and clear views of abstract and philosophic truth. 

4. The one was the language, for the most part, of a pas- 
toral people, of limited domain, suited to receive a divine 
revelation, while it was to be perpetuated and held in re- 
serve till He who should stretch forth the rod of His strength 
from Zion, and carry forth truth unto victory, should come ; 
the other, a language more widely diffused over the civilized 
world, through which the truth could reach men of many: 
races, in one generation. 

5. The Bible is equally interesting for the opposition ill 
has encountered. The powerful and the weak have risen up 
against it. Learning has sought among its ample stores tc 
prove its declarations at fault, and philosophy, with hei 
boasted discoveries, to prove it inconsistent. It has shamed 
its enemies, and sent them back to correct their facts and 
harmonize their testimony. It has been ridiculed, insulted, 
torn, and burned. But it still lives, and exerts its blesseo 
power upon the world. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 147 

6. We regard it with that curiosity and veneration with 
which we view the battlements of some renowned city, 
which has sustained siege after siege, and remains uncon- 
juered. It has, in turn, assailed its assailants, and ground 
;hem to powder. In every attack upon it they have been 
vanquished. R EV . George Howe, D.D. 








Spell and define- 

3. Surprises. 




4. Perpetuated. 



5. Encountered. 

6. Battlements. 


Spell and define — 

Con-struot'ed, built. 5. Fas-cines', bundles of sticks 
May'or, the chief magistrate of used to fill up ditches or 

a city - strengthen ramparts. 

Si-mul-ta'ne-ous, happening at 7. Hav'oc, great destruction. 

the same time. 8. Pla-toons', divisions of a com- 
Lev'ee, a bank thrown up along pany of soldiers. 

a river to prevent its over- 9. Car'nage, slaughter. 



1. On the morning of the 1st of January, 1815, Sir 
dward Packenham was discovered to have constructed 
itteries near the American worts, and at daylight com- 
enced a heavy fire from them, which was well returned by 
eneral Jackson. A bold attempt was, at the same time, 
ade to turn the left of the Americans ; but in this the ene- 
I was completely repulsed. The British retired, in the 
^ening, from their batteries, having spiked their guns, and 

148 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

leaving behind a quantity of ammunition. The loss of the 
Americans on this occasion was eleven killed, and twenty- 
three wounded. 

2. On the 4th, General Jackson was joined by twenty-five 
hundred Kentuckians, under General Adair ; and on the 6th, 
the British were joined by General Lambert, at the head of 
four thousand men. The British force now amounted to 
little short of fifteen thousand of the finest troops ; that of 
the Americans to about six thousand, chiefly raw militia, a 
considerable portion unarmed, and from the haste of their 
departure, badly supplied with clothing. All the private 
arms which the inhabitants possessed were collected, and 
the ladies of New-Orleans occupied themselves continually 
in making different articles of clothing. The mayor of the 
city, Mr. Girod, was particularly active at this trying mo-i 

3. The British general now prepared for a serious attempt 
on the American works. With great labor he had com 
pleted, by the 7th, a canal from the swamp to the Mississippi, 
by which he was enabled to transport a number of his boats 
to the river. It was his intention to make a simultaneous 
attack on the main force of General Jackson on the left 
bank, and, crossing the river, to attack the batteries on the 
right. The works of the American general were by this 
time completed ; his front was a straight line of one thou- 
sand yards, defended by upward of three thousand infan 
try and artillerists. 

4. The ditch contained five feet of water ; and his front, 
from having been flooded by opening the levees and fre- 
quent rains, was rendered slippery and muddy. Eight 
distinct batteries were judiciously disposed, mounting in 
all twelve guns of different calibres. On the opposite side 
of the river, there was a strong battery of fifteen guns, and 
the intrenchments were occupied by General Morgan with 
the Louisiana militia, and a strong detachment of the Ken- 
tucky troops. 


5. On the memorable morning of the 8th of January, 
General Packenham, having detached Colonel Thornton, 
with a considerable force, to attack the works on the right 
bank of the river, moved, with his whole force, exceeding 
twelve thousand men, in two divisions, under Major-Gen- 
erals Gibbs and Kean, and a reserve under General Lam- 
bert. The first of these officers was to make the principal 
attack; the two columns were furnished with scaling-lad- 
ders and fascines. 

6. Thus prepared, the Americans patiently waited the 
attack which would decide the fate of New-Orleans, and 
perhaps of Louisiana. The British deliberately advanced 
in solid columns, over an even plain, in front of the Ameri- 
can intrenchments, the men carrying, besides their muskets, 
fascines, and some of them ladders. A dead silence pre- 
vailed, until they approached within reach of the batter- 
ies, which commenced an incessant and destructive cannon- 
ade ; they, notwithstanding, continued to advance in toler- 
able order, closing up their ranks as fast as they were opened 
by the fire of the Americans. 

7. When they came within reach, however, of musketry 
and rifles, these joined the artillery, and produced such 
dreadful havoc that they were instantly thrown into con- 
fusion. Never was there so tremendous a fire as that kept 
up from the American lines ; it was a continued stream ; 
those behind, loading for the men in front, enabled them 
to fire with scarcely an intermission. The British columns 
were literally swept away ; hundreds fell at every discharge. 
The British officers were now making an effort to rally their 
men; and in this attempt, their commander, a gallant 
officer, General Packenham, was Tailed. 

8. The two generals, Gibbs and Kean, succeeded in push- 
ing forward their columns a second time ; but the second 
approach was more fatal than the first ; the continued roll- 
ing fire of the Americans resembled peals of thunder ; it was 
such as no troops could withstand j the advancing columns 

150 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

broke, and no effort to rally them could avail ; a few pla- 
toons only advanced to the edge of the ditch, to meet a 
more certain destruction. 

9. An unavailing attempt was made to bring them up 
a third time by their officers, whose gallantry, on this oc- 
casion, deserved a better fate in a better cause. Generals 
Gibbs and Kean were carried away severely wounded, the 
former mortally. The plain between the front of the Brit- 
ish and the American lines was strewed with dead; so 
dreadful a carnage, considering the length of time and the 
numbers engaged, was perhaps never witnessed. Two 
thousand, at the lowest estimate, pressed the earth, besides 
a number of the wounded who were not able to escape. 
The loss of the Americans did not exceed seven killed and 
seven wounded. General Lambert was the only general 
officer left upon the field ; being unable to check the flight 
of the British columns, he retired to his encampment. 

10. In the mean time, the detachment under Colonel 
Thornton succeeded in landing on the right bank, and im- 
mediately attacked the intrenchments of General Morgan. 
The American right, believing itself outflanked, abandoned 
its position, while the left maintained its ground for a while ; 
but finding itself deserted by those on the right, and being 
outnumbered by the enemy, they spiked their guns, and 
retired. Colonel Thornton was severely wounded, and the 
command devolved on Colonel Gobbins, who, seeing the 
fate of the assault on the left bank, and receiving orders 
from General Lambert, recrossed the river. 

11. On the return of General Lambert to his camp, it was 
resolved, in consultation with Admiral Cochrane, to retire 
to their shipping. This was effected with great secrecy ; 
and during the night of the 18th their camp was entirely 
evacuated. From the nature of the country it was found 
impossible to pursue them. They left eight of their wounded 
and fourteen pieces of artillery. Their loss in this fatal ex- 
pedition was immense j besides their generals, and a number 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 151 

of valuable officers, their force was diminished by at least 
five thousand men. It was vain, as in other instances, to 
conceal the truth of the affair; and the sensations which 
it produced in Great Britain are not easily described ; the 
conduct of the ministry was regarded as shamefully dishon- 
orable, in thus stretching forth one hand to receive the 
olive which was tendered by America, and at the same 
time wielding a dagger with the other. Anonymous. 

1. Repulsed. 

3. Transport. 

4. Detachment. 
6. Incessant. 

Spell and define — 

7. Intermission. 
9. Unavailing. 

10. Abandoned. 








Spell and define- 

1. Dis-so-lu'tion - , death, separa- 
tion of the soul and body. 
5. In-ad'e-quate, partial, not 
equal to the reality. 
Rav'a-ges, destruction, ruin. 

7. Ex-trem'i-ties, utmost dis- 

tress ; last extremities here 
means death. 

8. Pro-lon-ga'tion, the act of 


Ve'hi-cles, carriages of any 

Re-cep'ta-cles, places in which 
to receive any thing. 
9. As-si-du'i-ttes, services render- 
ed with zeal and kindness. 
10. Con-ta'gion, pestilence, sick- 
ness spreading from the touch. 
12. De-ci'phered, explained. 


1. Though the whole race of man is doomed to dissolu- 
tion, and we are hastening to our long home ; yet, at each 
successive moment, life and death seem to divide between 
them the dominion of mankind, and life to have the larger 
share. It is otherwise in war ; death reigns there without 
a rival, and without control. 

152 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

2. War is the work, the element, or rather the sport and 
triumph of death, who here glories not only in the extent 
of his conquest, but in the richness of his spoil. In the 
other methods of attack, in the other forms which death 
assumes, the feeble and the aged, who at best can live but 
a short time, are usually the victims ; here they are the vig- 
orous and the strong. 

3. It is remarked by the most ancient of poets, that in 
peace, children bury their parents; in war, parents bury 
their children; nor is the difference small. Children la- 
ment their parents, sincerely, indeed, but with that moder- 
ate and tranquil sorrow, which it is natural for those to 
feel who are conscious of retaining many tender ties, many 
animating prospects. 

4. Parents mourn for their children with the bitterness 
of despair; the aged parent, the widowed mother, loses, 
when she is deprived of her children, every thing but the 
capacity of suffering ; her heart, withered and desolate, ad- 
mits no other object, cherishes no other hope. It is Rachel 
weeping for her children, and refusing to be comforted, be- 
cause they are not. 

5. But, to confine our attention to the number of the 
slain, would give us a very inadequate idea of the ravages 
of the sword. The lot of those who perish instantaneously 
may be considered, apart from religious prospects, as com- 
paratively happy, since they are exempt from those linger- 
ing diseases and slow torments to which others are so liable. 

6. We cannot see an individual expire, though a stranger 
or an enemy, without being sensibly moved and prompted 
by compassion to lend him every assistance in our power. 
Every trace of resentment vanishes in a moment ; every other 
emotion gives way to pity and terror. 

7. In the last extremities, we remember nothing but the 
respect and tenderness due to our common nature. What 
a scene, then, must a field of battle present, where thousands 
are left without assistance, and without pity, with their 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 153 

wounds exposed to the piercing air, while the blood, freez- 
ing as it flows, binds them to the earth, amid the trampling 
of horses, and the insults of an enraged foe. 

8. If they are spared by the humanity of the enemy, and 
carried from the field, it is but a prolongation of the tor- 
ment. Conveyed in uneasy vehicles, often to a remote dis- 
tance, through roads almost impassable, they are lodged 
in ill-prepared receptacles for the wounded and sick, where 
the variety of distress baffles all the efforts of humanity and 
skill, and renders it impossible to give to each the attention 
he demands. 

9. Far from their native home, no tender assiduities of 
friendship, no well-known voice, no wife, or mother, or 
sister, are near to soothe their sorrows, relieve their thirst, 
or close their eyes in death ! Unhappy man ! and must 
you be swept into the grave unnoticed and unnumbered, 
and no friendly tear be shed for your sufferings, or mingled 
with your dust ? 

10. We must remember, however, that as a very small 
proportion of military life is spent in actual combat, so it 
is a very small part of its miseries which must be ascribed 
to this source. More are consumed by the rust of inactivi- 
ty than by the edge of the sword ; confined to a scanty or 
unwholesome diet, exposed to sickly climates, harassed with 
tiresome marches and perpetual alarms ; their life is a con- 
tinual scene of hardships and dangers. They grow familiar 
with hunger, cold, and watchfulness. Crowded into hospi- 
tals and prisons, contagion spreads among their ranks, till 
the ravages of disease exceed those of the enemy. 

11. We have hitherto only adverted to the sufferings of 
those who are engaged in the profession of arms, without 
taking into our account the situation of the countries which 
are the scenes of hostilities. How dreadful to hold every 
thing at the mercy of an enemy, and to receive life itself as 
a boon dependent on the sword ! 

12. How boundless the fears which such a situation must 



inspire, where the issues of life and death are determined 
by no known laws, principles, or customs, and no conjec- 
ture can be formed of our destiny, except so far as it is 
dimly deciphered in characters of blood, in the dictates of 
revenge, and the caprices of power ! 

13. Conceive but for a moment the consternation which 
the approach of an invading army would impress on the 
peaceful villages in our own neighborhood. When you 
have placed yourselves for an instant in that situation, you 
will learn to sympathize with those unhappy countries 
which have sustained the ravages of arms. But how is it 
possible to give you an idea of these horrors ! 

14. Here you behold rich harvests, the bounty of heaven, 
and the reward of industry, consumed in a moment, or 
trampled under foot, while famine and pestilence follow the 
steps of desolation. There, the cottages of peasants given 
up to the flames, mothers expiring through fear, not for 
themselves, but their infants ; the inhabitants flying with 
their helpless babes in all directions, miserable fugitives on 
their native soil ! 

15. In another place, you witness opulent cities taken by 
storm; the streets, where no sounds were heard but those 
of peaceful industry, filled on a sudden with slaughter and 
blood, resounding with the cries of the pursuing and the 
pursued ; the palaces of nobles demolished, the houses of 
the rich pillaged ; and every age, sex, and rank, mingled in 
promiscuous massacre and ruin ! Robert Hall. 

Spell and define — 

1. Successive. Ascribed. 13. Consternation. 

3. Tranquil. Perpetual. 14. Pestilence. 

4. Capacity. Hospitals. Fugitives. 

5. Instantaneously. 11. Adverted. 15. Opulent. 

6. Resentment. 12. Inspire. Demolished. 
10. Combat. Caprices. Massacre. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 155 

lesson xlviii. 

Spell and define— 

1. Sur'named, having a name 7. Chiv'al-ry, a military order 
added to the original name. called knights. 

3. Proph'e-CY, prediction, foretell- 8. Mar'tial, relating to war. 

ing. 11. Main-tain', assert, defend. 

4. Re-buffs', defeats, repulses, 12. Friv'o-lous, trifling, of little 
Cos'tume, dress. importance. 


1. Joan of Arc, surnamed the Maid of Orleans, from her 
heroic defence of that city, was born about the year 1411, 
in the little hamlet of Domremy, near the river Meuse, in 
France, where her house is still preserved as a national 
relic. Her parents were humble and honest peasants. 

2. At that time the kingdom of France was nothing more 
than a province conquered by the English, who treated the 
inhabitants with great severity. The young and unfortu- 
nate King of France, Charles the Seventh, beheld, day by 
day, his possessions taken from him, and his people perse- 

3. The calamitous state of the nation was a subject of 
great concern, even in the little obscure village where Joan 
dwelt ; and in her prayers she never forgot France and its 
rightful monarch. It chanced that a prophecy was current 
that a virgin should rid France of its enemies ; and this 
prophecy seems to have been realized by its effect upon the 
mind of Joan. 

4. Such was her enthusiasm, such her perseverance, that, 
after many difficulties and rebuffs, she gained access to 
Charles the Seventh, and induced him to give her the rank 
of a military commander, and allow her to go to raise the 
siege of Orleans. She assumed a military costume, and, on 
the third of May, 1429, actually entered the besieged city 


at the head of a convoy of provisions and munitions of war, 
which her panic-stricken enemies dared not attack. 

5. A few days later, in an attack on the English intrench- 
ments, she rushed, armed only with her standard, toward 
them, seized the first ladder, and planted her colors on the 
ramparts. An arrow struck her in the shoulder, and she 
fell to the ground : the English raised a shout of triumph, 
and the French fell back discouraged. 

6. Joan, perceiving that victory was about to turn in 
favor of the enemy, tore, with her own hand, the arrow 
from her deep wound, sprang from the ground, rallied her 
soldiers, and penetrated with them into the English in- 

7. " Thus," says an historian, " that famous siege, which 
had lasted seven month — during which all the efforts of 
the chivalry of France had only succeeded in repelling a 
few assaults — was raised, in a few hours, by the courage 
of a heroine of seventeen. A week after the arrival of 
Joan of Arc, the enemy had fled from the walls of the de- 
livered city." 

8. Other successes followed this. Wherever Joan pre- 
sented herself, the enemy fled before her. The fortunes of 
Charles the Seventh were retrieved. The fourteenth of 
July, 1429, having assisted at the ceremony of his corona- 
tion, she exclaimed,, when it was over, "Now I shall not 
regret to die !" Having liberated her country, she wished 
to retire to her native village, to " serve her father and 
mother in keeping their sheep ;" but to this the king would 
not consent. She was prevailed upon to continue her mar- 
tial career. 

9. Scarcely had a year elapsed since the glorious day on 
which she had delivered Orleans, when the courageous girl, 
having remained to the very last while the French were re- 
treating from the siege of Compiegne, saw herself surround- 
ed by a troop of Burgundian archers. By parrying their 
blows, and receding step by step as she fought, she at last 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 157 

succeeded in gaining the foot of the rdmparts. One step 
more, and she would have entered the town. 

10. But whether from jealousy, or bad management, or 
treachery, those who guarded the entrance into the city 
closed the gate, the drawbridge w T as immediately raised, 
and Joan was a prisoner. She was delivered over to the 
English by the Burgundian leader, for a sum of money ; 
and the English, ashamed of having been conquered by a 
young girl, thought to efface the memory of their defeats 
by accusing her of witchcraft. 

11. Joan asserted her innocence of this cruel charge. 
"Were I condemned," she said, " were I to behold the fire 
kindled, the wood prepared, the executioner ready to tie me 
to the stake — were I even in the midst of the flames — I 
would say only what I have already said, and maintain it 
until death. I submit with resignation to whatever tor- 
ments you have to inflict. I know not if I have more to 
suffer ; but my trust is in God." 

12. Fearing lest she might be torn by the people from 
:heir grasp, her cowardly and ever infamous judges con- 
demned her to death. It was on the thirty-first of May, 
[431— that is to say, when Joan was verging on her twenti- 
eth year— that, on a frivolous and wicked charge of heresy 
ind witchcraft, she was led to the stake in the old market- 
)lace at Rouen. Eight hundred English soldiers escorted 

13. A stupendous pile had been erected. The magistrate 
jommanded the executioner to take Joan, and place her on 
he pile. The English soldiers, seeing that she spoke with 
ler confessor, lost all patience, and exclaimed, " Do you in- 
end to make us dine here ?" They then seized her them- 
elves, and tied her to the stake, at the same time calling 
ipon the executioner to apply his torch from below. He 
lid so, and the flames began to crackle. 

14. An intrepid priest was standing by Joan, and he 
ngered, offering her religious consolation, as the smoke 

158 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

ascended. Even in that dreadful moment, the heroic girl 
seemed to think more of another's safety than of her own 
mortal anguish so near. She begged the priest to go down, 
but to continue "to speak pious words" to her from his< 
station below. 

15. The last audible utterance from the lips of Joan was 
the sacred name of Jesus. The assistants, unable to restrain 
their tears, exclaimed, " She is innocent! She is truly a 
Christian I" A secretary of the English monarch, being 
present, said, weeping, to one of the judges, "You have 
ruined us ; for they are burning a holy creature, whose soul 
is in the hands of God." Her ashes were scattered to the 
winds. Her memory is immortal. 

From the French. 

1. Hamlet. 

2. Province. 

3. Calamitous. 

Spell and define— 

4. Convoy. 

5. Triumph. 

6. Rallied. 

1. Heroine. 

10. Treachery. 

11. Executioner. 

13. Stupendous. 

14. Anguish. 

1. Gnarled, knotty. 

2. Scaled, climbed. 

3. Is'o-lat-ed, standing by itself. 
Pan-o-ra'ma, a complete view 

in every direction. 

4. Haze, a misty appearance of 
the air. 

6. Im'pe-tus, force of motion. 

be ; 


Spell and define — 

7. In-ter-me'di-ate, lying 

8. Re-mot' est, most distant. 
Pol'ished, made smooth an( 


9. El'e-vat-ed, very high. 
Ma-jes'tic, splendid, grand. 


1. After riding about a mile and a quarter we came I 
the point beyond which horses cannot be taken ; and ai& 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 159 

nounting our steeds, commenced ascending on foot. The 
vay was very steep, and we halted often to take breath. 
is we approached the summit, the trees were all of a dwarf- 
sh growth, and twisted and gnarled by the storms of that 
iigh region. There were also a few blackberry bushes 
•earing their fruit long after the season had passed be- 


2. A few minutes longer brought us to where the trees 
eased to grow ; but a huge mass of rocks, piled wildly on 
be top of each other, finished the termination of the peak. 
>ur path lay for some distance round the base of it, until 

led to a part of the pile which, with some effort, could be 
ialed. There was no ladder, nor any artificial steps, and 
le only means of ascent was by climbing over the successive 

3. We soon stood upon the wild platform of one of nature's 
ost magnificent observatories — isolated, and apparently 
)ove all things else terrestrial, and looking down upon a 
dutiful, variegated, and at the same time wild, grand, and 
most boundless panorama. I had been there before ! I 
member, when a boy of little more than ten years old, to 
ive been taken to that spot, and how my unpractised 
>rves forsook me at the awful sublimity of the scene. 

4. On this day it was as new as ever ; as wild, wonderful, 
id sublime, as if I had never before looked from those iso- 
ted rocks, or stood on that lofty summit. On one side, to- 
ard eastern Virginia, lay a comparatively level country, 

the distance bearing a strong resemblance to the ocean ; 
i the other hand were ranges of high mountains, inter- 
ersed with cultivated spots, and then terminating in piles 

mountains, following in successive ranges until they were 
st also in the haze. 

5. Above and below, the Blue Ridge and Alleghanies 
n off in long lines, sometimes relieved by knolls and 
aks, and in one place above us, making a graceful curve, 
d then again running off in a different line of direction. 

160 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Very near us stood the rounded top of the other peak, look- 
ing like a sullen sentinel for its neighbor. 

6. We paused in silence for a time. It was more hazy 
than at the time of my last visit, but not enough so to de- 
stroy the interest of the scene. There was almost a sense 
of pain at the stillness which seemed to reign. We could 
hear the napping of the wings of the hawks and buzzards, 
as they gathered new impetus after sailing through one of 
their circles in the air below us. 

V. North of us, and on the other side of the Valley of Vir- 
ginia were the mountains near Lexington, just as seen froir 
that beautiful village— the Jump, North, and House moun 
tains succeeding each other. Further on down the valley, and 
at a great distance, was the top of a large mountain, whiclj 
was thought to be the great North mountain away dowij 
in Shenandoah county— I am afraid to say how far off. In 
termediate between these mountains, and extending opposite 
and far above us, was the Valley of Virginia, with its nj 
merous and highly cultivated farms. 

8. Across this valley, and in the distance, lay the remol 
est ranges of the Alleghany and the mountains about an 
beyond'the White Sulphur Springs. Turning toward 1| 
direction of our morning ride, we had beneath us Bedfor 
county with its smaller mountains, farms, and farm-houses 
the beautiful village of Liberty, the county roads, and oce* 
sionally a mill-pond reflecting the sun like a sheet of poj 
ished silver. . < j 

9. It is said that John Randolph once spent the night o 
these elevated rocks, attended by no one but his servad 
and that when in the morning he had witnessed the ■ 
rising over the majestic scene, he turned to his servan 
having no other to whom he could express his thoughts, aH 
charged him, " never from that time to believe any one wll 
told him there was no God." 

So. Lit. Messenger. 



Canebrakes. — Canebrakes form a prevailing feature in 
nany of the marshy regions of Louisiania. The peculiar 
lature of the plant which there occupies the soil renders a 
3anebrake different from every other kind of growth. 

The cane grows in one long, slender, upright stalk, from 
>en to twenty feet in height, giving out but a few thin 
eaves, especially when close together. Though hollow, it 
possesses great strength ; it is jointed, and the texture is 
compact, and the external part is formed of a hard, 
shelly substance, containing silex. When green, it is also 

The difficulty of penetrating a canebrake is so great as 
io be but seldom attempted, except where paths have been 
nade by cutting away or trampling down the canes when 
roung. Paths once opened and frequently travelled, re- 
nain passable, except when overflown by the water. But 
vhen several paths cross each other, nothing is more easy 
han for a traveller to lose his way; for the tops of the 
janes often bend over and meet above his head, so as to 
ihut out a view even of the sky. 


Spell and define — 

l. Fan-tas'tic, fanciful, odd. 5. Stealth'y, secret, unperceived. 

I Fan'cies, conceptions, images. 7. Mould, earth, the grave. 
: . Lulled, quieted, composed. 8. De'vi-ous, wandering. 


1. They are gliding, they are gliding 
O'er the meadows green and gay, 
Like a fairy troop they're riding 
Through the breezy woods away ; 

162 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

On the mountain tops they linger, 
When the sun is sinking low, 

And they point with giant finger 
To the sleeping vale below. 

2. They are flitting, they are flitting 

O'er the waving corn and rye, 
And now they're calmly sitting 

'Neath the oak-tree's branches high ; 
And where the tired reaper 

Hath sought the sheltering tree, 
They dance above the speaker 

In light, fantastic glee. 

3. They are creeping, they are creeping 

Over valley, hill, and stream, 
Like the thousand fancies sweeping 

Through a youthful poet's dream ; 
Now they mount on noiseless pinions 

With the eagle to the sky — 
Soar along those broad dominions 

Where the stars in beauty lie. 

4. They are leaping, they are leaping 

Where a cloud beneath the moon 
O'er the lake's soft breast is sleeping 

Lulled by a pleasant tune ; 
And where the fire is glancing 

At twilight through the hall, 
Tall spectre forms are dancing 

Upon the lofty wall. 

5. They are lying, they are lying 

Where the solemn yew-tree waves, 
And the evening winds are sighing 
In the lonely place of graves ; 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 163 

And their noiseless feet are creeping 

With slow and stealthy tread 
"Where the ancient church is keeping 
Its watch above the dead. 

6. Lo they follow, lo they follow, 
Or before flit to and fro, 

By mountain, stream, or hollow, 

Wherever man may go ; 
And never for another 

Will the shadow leave his side- 
More faithful than a brother, 

Or all the world beside. 

7. Ye remind me, ye remind me, 

shadows pale and cold ! 
That friends to earth did bind me, 

Now sleeping in the mould ; 
The young, the loved, the cherished, 

Whose mission early done, 
In life's bright noontide perished, 

Like shadows in the sun. 

8. The departed, the departed — 

1 greet them with my tears, 
The true and gentle-hearted, 

The friends of early years ; 
Their wings like shadows o'er me, 

Methinks are spread for aye, 
Around, behind, before me, 

To guard the devious way. 

Sophia Helen - Oliver. 

Spell and define — 

1 Gliding. 3. Mount. Glancing. 

2. Flitting. Pinions. 6. Faithful. 

Reaper. 4. Spectre. 1. Cherished. 

16i sterling's southern fourth reader. 


Spell and define — 

2. Flush, fresh, Ml of vigor. 9. Couch, a bed. 

3. Zenith, the point in the heav- 11. Con'verse, familiar conversa- 

ens directly over head. tion. 

5. Van, the front. 12. Tran-scrib'ed, copied. 

7. Ex'it, the departure, end. 13. Steeds, horses. 

8. Pa-vil'ion, a kind of building. 


1. The evening was glorious, and light through the trees 

Played the sunshine and raindrops, the birds and the 

breeze ; 
The landscape, outstretching in loveliness, lay 
On the lap of the year, in the beauty of May. 

2. For the Queen of the Spring, as she passed down th< 

Left her robe on the trees, and her breath on the gale ; 
And the smiles of her promise gave joy to the hours, 
And flush, in her footsteps, sprang herbage and flowers 

3. The skies, like a banner, in sunset unrolled, 

O'er the west threw their splendor of azure and gold ; 
But one cloud at a distance rose dense, and increased, 
Till its margin of black touched the zenith and east. 

4. We gazed on the scenes while around us they glowed, 

When a vision of beauty appeared on the cloud ; 
'Twas not like the sun as at midday we view, 
Nor the moon that rolls nightly through starlight an 

5. Like a spirit, it came in the van of the storm, 

And the eye and the heart hailed its beautiful form ; 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 165 

For it looked not severe, like an angel of wrath, 
But its garment of brightness illumed its dark path. 

5. In the hues of its grandeur sublimely it stood 

O'er the river, the village, the field, and the wood ; 
And river, field, village, and woodlands grew bright, 
As conscious they gave and afforded delight. 

I. 'Twas the bow of Omnipotence bent in His hand 
Whose grasp at creation the universe spanned ; 
'Twas the presence of God in symbol sublime ; 
His vow from the flood to the exit of time. 

I Oh, such was the rainbow, that beautiful one ! 
Whose arch was refraction, its keystone the sun ; 
A pavilion it seemed, which the Deity graced, 
And Justice and Mercy met there and embraced. 

f. A while, and it sweetly bent over the gloom, 
Like Love o'er a death-couch, or Hope o'er the tomb ; 
Then left the dark scene ; whence it slowly retired, 
As Love had just vanished, or Hope had expired. 

I gazed not alone on that source of my song ; 
To all who beheld it these verses belong ; 
Its presence to all was the path of the Lord ! 
Each full heart expanded, grew warm, and adored. 

Like a visit, the converse of friends, or a day, 
That bow from my sight passed for ever away ; 
Like that visit, that converse, that day, to my heart 
That bow from remembrance can never depart. 

'Tis a picture in memory, distinctly defined 
With the strong and unperishing colors of mind — 



A part of my being, beyond my control, 

Beheld on that cloud, but transcribed on my soul. 

13. Not dreadful, as when in the whirlwind He pleads, 
When storms are His chariot, and lightning His steeds 
The black clouds, His banner of vengeance unfurled, 
And thunder His voice to a guilt-stricken world : 

14. In the breath of His presence, when thousands expire, 
And the seas boil with fury, and rocks burn with fire, 
And the sword and the plague-spot with death stre^ 

the plain, 
And vultures and wolves are the graves of the slain. 


1. Landscape. 

2. Herbage. 

3. Azure. 

4. Vision. 
6. Hues. 

Spell and define- 

1. Symbol. 
8. Arch. 

9/ Expired. 
10. Expanded. 


12. Unperishing. 

13. Chariot. 

147 Vultures. 


Spell and define — 

1. Ab-tic'u-LATE, speak distinct- 5. A-vid'i-ty, eagerness. 

ly- 8. Pros'e-cut-ed, pursued, car- 

2. Fren'zy, madness, distraction. ried on. 
3 At-tire', dress. 9. Ar'dor, eager love. 


1. John James Audubon was born in Louisiana, about 
the year 1782. He was of French descent, and his parents 
possessed that happy nature which disposed them to en- 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 167 

ourage the spirit of inquiry which they early perceived in 
he mind of their son ; and which exists in the mind of every 
hild of good natural abilities. " When I had hardly learn- 
i to walk," says Audubon, " and to articulate those first 
r ords always so endearing to parents, the productions of 
ature that lay spread all around were constantly pointed 
at to me. 

2. "They soon became my playmates; and before my 
leas were sufficiently formed to enable me to estimate the 
.fference between the azure tints of the sky, and the einer- 
d hue of the bright foliage, I felt that an intimacy with 
em, not of friendship merely, but bordering upon frenzy, 
ust accompany my steps through life. And now, more 
an ever, am I persuaded of the power of those early im- 
essions. They laid such- hold of me, that when removed 
)m the woods, the prairies, and the brooks, or shut up 
)m the view of the wide Atlantic, I experienced none of 
ose pleasures most congenial to my mind. 
3. " My father generally accompanied my steps, procured 
rds and flowers for me, and pointed out the elegant move- 
sits of the former, the beauty and softness of their plu- 
ige, the manifestations of their pleasures or their sense 

danger, and the always perfect forms and splendid at- 
e of the latter. He would speak of the departure and 
iurn of the birds with the seasons, describe their haunts, 
■ more wonderful than all, their change of livery ; thus 
citing me to study them, and to raise my mind toward 
3ir great Creator. 

I. "A vivid pleasure shone upon those days of my early 
nth, attended with a calmness of feeling that seldom 
led to rivet my attention for hours, while I gazed with 
itasy upon the pearly and shining eggs, as they lay em- 
Ided in the softest down, or among dried leaves and 
igs, or were exposed upon the burning sand or weather- 
iten rocks of our Atlantic shore. I was taught to look 
m them as flowers yet in the bud. 

168 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

5. " I grew up, and my wishes grew with my form. ] 
was fervently desirous of becoming acquainted with nature 
I wished to possess all the productions of nature, but I wish 
ed life with them. This was impossible. Then, what was 
to be done ? I turned to my father, and made known tcj 
him my disappointment and anxiety. He produced a book 
of illustrations. A new life ran in my veins. I turned ove: 
the leaves with avidity, and although what I saw was no 
what I longed for, it gave me a desire to copy nature. T< 
nature I went, and tried to imitate her. 

6. " How sorely disappointed did I feel, for many years 
when I saw that my productions were worse than thos<j 
which I ventured to regard as bad in the book given t<j 
me by my father. My pencil gave birth to a family oj 
cripples. So maimed were most of them, that they mor 
nearly resembled the mangled corpses on the field of bat 
tie, than the objects which I had intended to represent. 

7. " These difficulties and disappointments irritated me 
but never for a moment destroyed the desire of obtaining 
perfect representations of nature. The worse my drawing 
were, the more beautiful did I see the originals. To hav 
been torn from the study, would have been as death to me 
My time was entirely occupied with it. I produced hur. 
dreds of these rude sketches annually, and for a long timei 
at my request, they made bonfires on the anniversary of m 

8. In his sixteenth year, young Audubon was sent t 
France, to pursue his education. While there, he attende 
schools of natural history and the arts, and took lessons i 
drawing from the celebrated David. Although he pros< 
cuted his studies zealously, his heart still panted for th 
sparkling streams of his "native land of groves." 

9. He returned in his eighteenth year, with an ardor fc 
the woods, and soon commenced a collection of drawing 
which have since swelled into a series of magnificent vo 
umes — " The Birds of America." These designs were to 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 


run on the farm given to him by his father, situated near 
Philadelphia, on the banks of the Schuylkill. 

10. There, amid its fine woodlands, its extensive fields, 
ts hills crowned with evergreens, he meditated upon these 
imple and agreeable objects, and pursued his rambles, from 
he first faint streaks of day until late in the evening, when 
vet with dew, and laden with feathered captives, he re- 
urned to the quiet enjoyment of the fireside. There, too, 
Le was married, and was fortunate in choosing one who 
nimated his courage amid vicissitudes, and in prosperity 
appreciated the grounds and measures of his success. 

11. For many years the necessities of life drove him into 
ommercial enterprises, which proved unsuccessful. His 
ove for the fields and flowers, the forests and their winged 
nhabitants, unfitted him for trade. His chief gratification 
ras derived from observation and study. His friends 
trove to wean him from his favorite pursuits, and he was 
ompellcd to struggle against the wishes of all, except his 
rife and children. They alone encouraged him, and were 
rilling to sink or swim with the beloved husband and fa- 

Spell and define — 


4. Vivid. 

5. Fervently. 

7. Irritated. 
9. Designs. 
10. Vicissitudes. 


Spell and define- 

. Ran-SACKED, searched closely. 
. Or-ni-thol'o-gist, a person 
skilled in the natural history 
of birds. 
. Brood'ed, thought anxiously 
Trav'ersed, wandered over. 
Ly-ce'um, a literary association. 

7. En-thu-si-as'tic, ardent, zeal- 


8. Ek-su'ino, succeeding, next 


13. Gen'ius, uncommon powers 

of mind. 

14. Prime, first, original. 

170 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

john james audubon. — {Continued.) 

1. At length Audubon gave himself entirely to the ob- 
servation and study of the feathered inhabitants of the 
forest. He undertook long and tedious journeys ; he ran- 
sacked the woods, the lakes, the prairies, and the shores of 
the Atlantic : he spent years away from his family. " Yet," 
says he, " I had no other object in view than simply to en 
joy the sight of nature. Never for a moment did I conceive 
the hope of becoming, in any degree, useful to my fellow- 
beings, until I accidentally formed an acquaintance with 
Charles Lucien Bonaparte, at Philadelphia, on the fifth of I 
April, 1824." 

2. It was soon afterward that Bonaparte, having ex-! 
amined Audubon's large collection of beautiful drawings, 
and observed his extensive knowledge of birds, said to him, 
" Do you know that you are a great man ?" In reply, 
Audubon asked him his intention in asking such a question 
" Sir," answered Bonaparte, u I consider you the greatest 
ornithologist in the world." He then suggested to him the 
importance of collecting and offering to the public the treas- 
ures which he had amassed during his wild journeyings. 

3. This idea seemed like a beam of new light to Audubon's 
mind, and added fresh interest to his employment. Foi 
weeks and months he brooded over the kindling thought 
He went westward to extend the number and variety of his 
drawings, with a view of preparing for a visit to Europe, 
and the publication of his works. When far away from the 
haunts of man, in the depths of forest solitude, happy days 
and nights of pleasant dreams attended him. 

4. Only two years passed after his first interview with 
Lucien Bonaparte in Philadelphia, before Audubon sailed 
for England. He arrived at Liverpool in 1826. Despond- 
ency and doubt seemed now to come upon him. There was 
not a known friend to whom he could apply in all the nation J 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 171 

And he imagined, in the simplicity of his heart, that every 
individual to whom he was about to present his subject 
might possess talents far superior to his own. For two 
days he traversed the streets of Liverpool, looking in vain 
for a single glance of sympathy. 

5. There are kind and generous hearts everywhere, and 
men of noble faculties to discern the beautiful and true; and 
it was not long before Audubon's works procured him a 
generous reception from the most distinguished men of 
science and letters. In a short time he was the admired 
of all admirers ; and men of genius and honor, such as 
Cuvier, Humboldt, Wilson, Roscoe, and Swainson, soon re- 
cognized his lofty claim. 

6. Learned societies extended to him the warm and will- 
ing hand of friendship ; the houses of the nobility were 
opened to him ; and wherever he went, the solitary Ameri- 
can woodman, whose talents were so little appreciated but 
a few years before, that he was rejected after being pro- 
posed by Lucien Bonaparte as a member of the Lyceum of 
Natural History, in Philadelphia, was now receiving the 
homage of the most distinguished men of science in the old 

7. Before the close of 1830, his first volume of the "Birds 
of America" was issued. It was received with enthusiastic 
applause; royal names headed the subscription list, and one 
hundred and seventy-five volumes were sold at a thousand 
dollars each. In the mean time, (April, 1829,) Audubon re- 
turned to America, to explore anew the woods of the Mid- 
dle and Southern States. 

8. The winter and spring of 1832 he passed in Florida 
and in Charleston. Early in the ensuing summer he bent 
his steps northward, and explored the forests of Maine, 
New-Brunswick, the shores of the Bay of Fundy, and of 
the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and the coast of Labrador. Re- 
turning as the cold season approached, he visited Newfound- 
land and Nova Scotia, and, rejoining his family, proceeded 

172 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

to Charleston, where he spent the winter in the preparation 
of his drawings and the accompanying descriptions. In the 
following spring, after nearly three years spent in travel 
and research, he sailed again for England. 

9. In 1834 the second volume of his work was published. 
The three following years were passed in exploring Florida 
and Texas. A vessel was placed at his disposal by the 
Government of the United States, to aid him in this noble 
enterprise. At the close of this period he published the 
fourth and last volume of plates, and the fifth volume of 
descriptions. The whole work comprises four hundred and 
thirty-five plates, containing more than one thousand figures, 
from the Bird of Washington to the tiny Humming Bird, 
all represented of the size, color, and attitude of life. 

10. In 1839, having returned for the last time to his native 
country, and established himself with his family at his beau- 
ful residence on the banks of the Hudson, near New- York » 
City, he commenced the republication in this country of the 
" Birds of America," in seven large octavo volumes, which 
were completed in 1844. 

11. Before the expiration of this period, however, he be- 
gan to prepare for the press the " Quadrupeds of America." 
In this work he was assisted by the Rev. John Bachman, 
D.D. Accompanied by his sons, Victor GifFord, and John 
Woodhouse, he explored the reedy swamps of our southern 
shores, traversed forest and prairie, making drawings and 
writing descriptions of quadrupeds. The first volume of 
"Quadrupeds" appeared in New- York in 1846. This work, 
consisting of five volumes, has recently been concluded, and 
is no less interesting and valuable than the works of his 
earlier life. 

12. At the age of sixty, Audubon possessed the spright- 
liness and vigor of a young man. In person he was tall, 
and remarkably well formed. His aspect was sweet and, 
animated ; and the childlike simplicity of his manners, and 
the cheerfulness of his temper, were worthy of universal 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 


imitation. These made him beloved by all who knew 

13. Audubon had no faith in genius. He said that a man 
could make himself what he pleased by labor ; and, by using 
every moment of time, the mind might be kept improving 
to the end of life. "Look at facts, and trust to yourself; 
meditate and reason," he would say ; " it is thus a man 
should educate himself." 

14. It was his object to learn every thing from the prime 
teacher, Nature. His glowing style, as well as his exten- 
sive knowledge, was the fruit of his own experience. He 
never wrote for the press until after the age at which most 
authors have established their reputation. His facility for 
ready writing, he said, was acquired by keeping a journal, 
in which he recorded the events and reflections of each day — 
a practice worthy the example of every one. 

15. For some years past his health had been failing, and 
he was rarely seen beyond the limits of his beautiful resi- 
dence. On the twenty-seventh of January, 1851, he died, 
full of years, and illustrious with the most desirable glory. 
He indissolubly linked himself with the undying loveliness 
of Nature, and thus left behind a monument of unending 
fame. Anonymous. 

1. Conceive. 

2. Amassed. 

4. Interview. 

5. Discern. 

Spell and define- 


6. Homage. 

7. Applause. 
9. Disposal. 


10. Completed. 

11. Quadrupeds. 

12. Sprightliness. 

14. Reflections. 

15. Indissolubly. 



Spell and define — 

1. Dis-ci'ples, followers. 4. Ra'ca, foolish, a term of ex- 

2. Sa'vour, taste, saltness. treme contempt. 

3. Scribe, one skilled in Jewish Aught, any thing. 

law, and who explained it to 6. For-swear,', to swear falsely, 
the people. 


1. And seeing the multitudes, he went up into a moun- 
tain : and when he was set, his disciples came unto him : and 
he opened his mouth, and taught them, saying, Blessed are 
the poor in spirit: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 
Blessed are they that mourn : for they shall be comforted. 
Blessed are the meek : for they shall inherit the earth. 
Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteous- 
ness : for they shall be filled. Blessed are the merciful : 
for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart : 
for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers : for 
they shall be called the children of God. Blessed are they 
which are persecuted for righteousness' sake : for theirs is 
the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are ye, when men shall 
revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of 
evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be ex- 
ceeding glad : for great is your reward in heaven : for so 
persecuted they the prophets which were before you. 

2. Ye are the salt of the earth : but if the salt have lost 
his savour, wherewith shall it be salted ? it is thenceforth 
good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden 
under foot of men. Ye are the light of the world. A city 
that is set on an hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light 
a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick ; 
and it giveth light unto all that are in the house. Let your \ 
light so shine before men, that they may see your good 
works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 175 

3. Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the 
prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfill. For 
verily I say unto you, Till heaven and earth pass, one jot 
or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be 
fulfilled. Whosoever therefore shall break one of these 
least commandments, and shall teach men so, he shall be 
sailed the least in the kingdom of heaven : but whosoever 
mall do and teach them, the same shall be called great in 
the kingdom of heaven. For I say unto you, That except 
four righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the 
scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the 
dngdom of heaven. 

4. Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, 
rhou shalt not kill ; and whosoever shall kill shall be in 
langer of the judgment : but I say unto you, That who- 
soever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in 
langer of the judgment : and whosoever shall say to his 
>rother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council : but who- 
mever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire, 
rherefore if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there re- 
nemberest that thy brother hath aught against thee ; leave 
here thy gift before the altar, and go thy way ; first be re- 
sonciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift. 
\gree with thine adversary quickly, whiles thou art in the 
vay with him ; lest at any time the adversary deliver thee 
o the judge, and the judge deliver thee to the officer, and 
hou be cast into prison. Verily I say unto thee, Thou 
halt by no means come out thence, till thou hast paid the 
ittermost farthing. 

5. Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, 
Chou shalt not commit adultery : but I say unto you, That 
rhosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath com- 
aitted adultery with her already in his heart. And if thy 
ight eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee : 
or it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should 
erish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into 


hell. And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and 
cast it from thee : for it is profitable for thee that one of 
thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body 
should be cast into hell. It hath been said, Whosoever 
shall put away his wife, let him give her a writing of di- 
vorcement : but I say unto you, That whosoever shall put 
away his wife, saving for the cause of fornication, causeth 
her to commit adultery: and whosoever shall marry her 
that is divorced committeth adultery. 

6. Again, ye have heard that it hath been said by them 
of old time, Thou shalt not forswear thyself, but shalt per- 
form unto the Lord thine oaths : but I say unto you, Swear 
not at all ; neither by heaven ; for it is God's throne : nor 
by the earth ; for it is his footstool : neither by Jerusalem ; 
for it is the city of the great King. Neither shalt thou 
swear by. thy head, because thou canst not make one hair 
white or black. But let your communication be, Yea, 
yea ; Nay, nay : for whatsoever is more than these cometh 
of evil. 

7. Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an 
eye, and a tooth for a tooth : but I say unto you, That ye 
resist not evil : but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right' 
cheek, turn to him the other also. And if any man will 
sue thee at law, and take away tny coat, let him have thy 
cloak also. And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, 
go with him twain. Give to him that asketh thee, and 
from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away. 

8. Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love 
thy neighbor, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, 
Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to 
them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully 
use you, and persecute you ; that ye may be the children 
of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun) 
to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the | 
just and on the unjust. For if ye love them which lovej 
you, what reward have ye ? do not even the publicans the I 



same ? And if ye salute your brethren only, what do you 
more than others ? do not even the publicans so ? Be ye 
therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven 

is perfect. 

1. Persecuted. 

3. Fulfilled. 


Spell and define — 

4. Council. 

5. Profitable. 


6. Communication. 
V. Twain. 
8. Salute. 

Spell and define — 

1. Alms, acts of charity to the Stn'gle, incorrupt, unbiassed. 

Ver'i-ly, truly indeed. 

2. Clos'et, a place for private 

A'men, so let it be. 
4. Moth, an. insect that de- 
stroys woolen clothing. 

E'vil, corrupt, perverse. 
5. Cubit, a measure of about 
Stat'ure, height, 
7. Mete, to measure, 
10. Strait, difficult. 



1. Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be 
seen of them : otherwise ye have no reward of your Father 
which is in heaven. Therefore when thou doest thine alms, 
do not sound a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in 
the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory 
of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. 
But when thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what 
thy right hand doeth : that thine alms may be in secret : 
and thy Father which seeth in secret himself shall reward 
thee openly. 

2. And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hyp- 
ocrites are : for they love to pray standing in the syna- 
gogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be 
seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their re- 


178 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

ward. But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, 
and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which 
is in secret ; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall re- 
ward thee openly. But when ye pray, use not vain repeti- 
tions, as the heathen do : for they think that they shall be 
heard for their much speaking. Be not ye therefore like 
unto them : for your Father knoweth what things ye have 
need of, before ye ask him. After this manner therefore 
pray ye : Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be 
Thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, 
as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And 
forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead 
us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil : For thine 
is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. 
Amen. For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heav- 
enly Father will also forgive you : but if ye forgive not 
men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your 

3. Moreover when ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a 
sad countenance : for they disfigure their faces, that they 
may appear unto men to fast. Yerily I say unto you, They 
have their reward. But thou, when thou fastest, anoint 
thine head, and wash thy face ; that thou appear not unto 
men to fast, but unto thy Father, which is in secret : and 
thy Father, which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly. 

4. Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where 
moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break 
through and steal : but lay up for yourselves treasures in 
heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and 
where thieves do not break through nor steal : for where 
your treasure is, there will your heart be also. The light 
of the body is the eye : if therefore thine eye be single, 
thy whole body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be 
evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If therefore 
the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that 
darkness ! 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 179 

5. No man can serve two masters : for either he will hate 
the one, and love the other ; or else he will hold to the one, 
and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon. 
Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, 
what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink ; nor yet for your 
body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than meat, 
and the body more than raiment ? Behold the fowls of the 
air : for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into 
barns ; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not 
much better than they ? Which of you by taking thought 
can add one cubit unto his stature? And why take ye 
thought for raiment ? Consider the lilies of the field, how 
they grow ; they toil not, neither do they spin : and yet I 
say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not 
arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the 
grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast 
into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of 
little faith ? 

6. Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat ? 
or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be 
clothed ? (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek :) 
for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all 
these things. But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and 
his righteousness ; and all these things shall be added unto 
you. Take therefore no thought for the morrow : for the 
morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Suffi- 
cient unto the day is the evil thereof. 

7. Judge not, that ye be not judged. For with what 
judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged : and with what 
measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again. And 
why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, 
but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye ? Or 
how wilt thou say to thy brother, Let me pull out the mote 
• out of thine eye ; and, behold, a beam is in thine own eye ? 
Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own 
eye ; and then shalt thou see clearly to cast out the mote 
out of thy brother's eye. 

180 sterling's southern fourth reader. c> 

8. Give not that which is holy unto the dogs, neither 
cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them 
under their feet, and turn again and rend you. 

9. Ask, and it shall be given you ; seek, and ye shall find ; 
knock, and it shall be opened unto you : for every one that 
asketh receiveth ; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him 
that knocketh it shall be opened. Or what man is there of 
you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone ? 
Or, if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent ? If ye then, 
being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your, child- 
ren, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven 
give good things to them that ask him? Therefore all 
things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do 
ye even so to them : for this is the law and the prophets. 

10. Enter ye in at the strait gate: for wide is the gate, 
and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and many 
there be which go in thereat : because strait is the gate, and 
narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be 
that find it. 

11. Beware of false prophets, which come to you in 
sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. 
Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes 
of thorns, or figs of thistles ? Even so every good tree 
bringeth forth good fruit ; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth 
evil fruit. A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit, neither 
can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. Every tree that 
bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into 
the fire. Wherefore by their fruits ye shall know them. 

12. Not every one that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall 
enter into the kingdom of heaven ; but he that doeth the 
will of my Father which is in heaven. Many will say to 
me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy 
name ? and in thy name have cast out devils ? and in thy 
name done many wonderful works ? And then I will pro- 
fess unto them, I never knew you : depart from me, ye that 
work iniquity. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 181 

13. Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, 
nd doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which 
felt his house upon a rock: and the rain descended, and 
be floods came, and the wind blew, and beat upon' that 
ouse; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock. And 
very one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth 
lem not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built 
is house upon the sand : and the rain descended, and the 
oods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that 
ouse ; and it fell : and great was the fall of it. 

14. And it came to pass, when Jesus had ended these say- 
igs, the people were astonished at his doctrine ; for he 
tught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. 

Spell and define — 

Hypocrites. 4. Treasures. 8. Pearls. 

Repetitions 5. Mammon. 10. Ravening. 

Anoint. 7. Mote. 12. Profess. 


Spell and define — 
Mon'arch, king or prince. 7. Aisle, a passage in a church. 

Ar-cades', walks arched above. Tro'phies, memorials of con- 

Spell, charm. quest# 


I Thou art no lingerer in monarch's hall, 
A joy thou art, a wealth to all ! 
A bearer of hope unto land and sea — 
Sunbeam ! what gift hath the world for thee ? 

Thou art walking the billows, and Ocean smiles— 
Thou hast touched with glory his thousand isles — 
Thou hast lit up the ships, and the feathery foam, 
And gladdened the sailor, like words from home. 

182 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

3. To the solemn depths of the forest shades, 

Thou art streaming on through their green arcades, 
And the quivering leaves that have caught thy glow, 
Like fireflies glance to the pools below. 

4. I looked on the mountains— a vapor lay- 
Folding their heights in its dark array ; 
Thou brakest forth— and the mist became 
A crown and a mantle of living flame. 

5. I looked on the peasant's lonely cot- 

Something of sadness had wrapt the spot ; 

But a gleam of thee on its casement fell, 

And it laughed into beauty at that bright spell. 

6. To the earth's wild places a guest thou art, 
Flushing the waste like the rose's heart ; 
And thou scornest not from thy pomp to shed 
A tender light on the ruin's head. 

V. Thou tak'st through the dim church-aisle thy way, 
And its pillars from twilight flash forth to day, 
And its high pale tombs, with their trophies old, 
Are bathed in a flood as of burning gold. 

8. And thou turnest not from the humblest grave, 
Where a flower to the sighing winds may wave ; 
Thou scatterest its gloom like the dreams of rest, 
Thou sleepest in love on its grassy breast. 

9. Sunbeam of summer, oh, what is like thee ? 
Hope of the wilderness, joy of the sea! 
One thing is like thee, to mortals given— 

The faith, touching all things with hues of heaven. 

Mrs. Hemans. 
Spell and define — 
2. Billows. 5. Gleam." 8. Gloom. 

3*. Quivering. 6. Flushing. 9. Wilderness. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 183 

lesson lvii. 

Spell and define — 

Vales, valleys. 6. De-scry', to see, discover. 
Trem'u-lous, quivering. Ma'ni-ac, mad, deranged. 

Shriek, a shrill cry or scream. 9. Cham'ois, a wild animal of the 
Fren'zied, affected with mad- goat kind. 

ness - 10. Shred, narrow strip, fragment. 


I've been among the mighty Alps, and wandered through 

their vales, 
And heard the honest mountaineers relate their dismal 

As round the cottage blazing hearth, when their daily 

work was o'er, 
They spake of those who disappeared, and ne'er were 

heard of more. 

And there I from a shepherd heard a narrative of fear, 

A tale to rend a mortal heart, which mothers might not 

The tears were standing in his eyes, his voice was tremu- 

But wiping all those tears away, he told his story thus : 

"It is among these barren cliffs the ravenous vulture 

Who never fattens on the prey which from afar he 

smells ; 
But, patient, watching hour on hour upon a lofty rock, 
He singles out some truant lamb, a victim, from the 


" One cloudless Sabbath summer morn, the sun was ris- 
ing high, 

When, from my children on the green, I heard a fearful 

184: sterling's southern fourth reader. 

As if some awful deed were done, a shriek of grief a J 

A cry, I humbly trust in God, I ne'er may hear again. 

5. «I hurried out to learn the cause; but, overwhelme 
with fright, 
The children never ceased to shriek, and from my frei 

zied sight 
I missed the youngest of my babes, the darling of m 

care ; 
But something caught my searching eyes, slow sailir 

through the air. 

6 Oh, what an awful spectacle to meet a father's eye— 
' His infant made a vulture's prey, with terror to descry 
And know, with agonizing breast, and with a mam 

That earthly power could not avail that innocent 

save ! 

n. " My infant stretched his little hands imploringly to r 
And struggled with the ravenous bird, all vainly to £ 

free ; 
At intervals, I heard his cries, as loud he shrieked 

Until upon the azure sky a lessening spot he seemed 

8. " The vulture napped his sail-like wings, though hea^v 

he new ; 
A mote upon the sun's broad face he seemed unto 

view ; 
But once I thought I saw him stoop, as if he wo 

alight — 
'Twas only a delusive thought, for all had vanished qi3 

9. " All search was vain, and years had passed ; that c. 

was ne'er forgot, 
When once a daring hunter climbed unto a lofty spo 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 185 

From whence, upon a rugged crag the chamois never 

He saw an infant's fleshless bones the elements had 

bleached ! 

.0. "I clambered up that rugged cliff— I could not stay- 

I knew they were my infant's bones thus hastening to 
decay ; 

A tattered garment yet remained, though torn to many 
a shred ; 

The crimson cap he wore that morn was still upon the 

|. " That dreary spot is pointed out to travellers passing 

Who often stand, and, musing, gaze, nor go without a 
, And as I journeyed the next morn, along my sunny way, 
The precipice was shown to me, whereon the infant lay. 


Spell and define — 

I Dismal. Searching. 8. Delusive. 

5. Narrative. 6. Spectacle. 9. Elements. 

\. Vulture. 7. Imploringly. 11. Musing. 
I. Overwhelmed. Intervals. Precipice. 


/Spell mid define — 

.. Re-paired', went. Con-jured', entreated, implor- 

!. Ban-dit'ti, robbers, outlaws. ed. 

!. Routs, fashionable assemblies. Na'tal, pertaining to birth, 

De-plore', lament, bewail. native. 

Rig'or-otjs, severe, strict. 5. Im-mured', imprisoned. 

L Con-fis-ca'tion, forfeiture of Fetid, having an offensive 

property. smell. 

186 sterling's southern fourth reader. 


1. Amidst the general desolation, the women of Carolina 
exhibited an example of more than masculine fortitude 
They displayed so ardent, so rare a love of country, thai 
scarcely could there be found in ancient or modern history 
an instance more worthy to excite surprise and admiration 
Far from being offended at the name of rebel ladies, the} 
esteemed it a title of distinction and glory. Instead oi 
showing themselves in assemblies, the seats of joy anc 
pleasure, they repaired on board of ships, they descendec 
into dungeons, where their husbands, children, and friend; 
were in confinement ; they carried them consolation am 

2. " Summon your magnanimity," they said : " yield no 
to the fury of tyrants ; hesitate not to prefer prison to in 
famy, death to servitude. America has fixed her eyes oi 
her beloved defenders ; you will reap, doubt it not, th 
fruit of your sufferings ; they will produce liberty, tha 
parent of all blessings ; they will shelter her for ever fron 
the assaults of British banditti. You are the martyrs oi 
such a cause, the most grateful to Heaven and sacred t< 

3. By such words these generous women mitigated th 
miseries of the unhappy prisoners. They would never ap 
pear at the balls or routs that were given by the victors 
Those who consented to attend them were instantly de 
spised by all the others. The moment an American office 
arrived at Charleston as a prisoner of war, they sought hin 
out, and loaded him with attention and civilities. The; 
often assembled in the most retired parts of their houses t\ 
deplore without restraint the misfortunes of their country 
Many of them imparted their noble spirit to their hesitating 
and wavering husbands ; they determined them to prefe 
a rigorous exile to their interesting families j and death t< 
the sweets of life. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 187 

4. Exasperated at their constancy, the English condemned 
te most zealous to banishment and confiscation. In bid- 
ing a last farewell to their fathers, their children, their 
-others, and their husbands, those heroines, far from be- 
aying the least mark of weakness, which in them might 
ive been excused, exhorted them to arm themselves with 
trepidity. They conjured them not to allow fortune to 
mquish them, nor to suffer the love they bore their fami- 
3S to render them unmindful of all they owed their coun- 
y. When comprehended, soon after, in the general de- 
•ee of banishment issued against the partisans of liberty, 
ley abandoned with the same firmness their natal soil. 

5. A supernatural* alacrity seemed to animate them when 
ley accompanied their husbands into distant countries, and 
ren when they were immured with them in the fetid ships 
to which they were inhumanly crowded. Reduced to the 
ost frightful indigence, they were seen to beg bread for 
Lemselves and families. Among those who were nurtured 

the lap of opulence, many passed suddenly from the most 
ilicate and the most elegant style of living to the rudest 
ils and to the humblest service. But humiliation could 
)t triumph over their resolution and cheerfulness ; their 
:ample was a support to their companions in misfortune. 

6. To this heroism of the women of Carolina, it is princi- 
illy to be imputed that the love, and even the name of 
3erty, were not totally extinguished in the Southern prov- 
ces. The English hence began to be sensible that their 
iumph was still far from secure. For, in every affair of 
iblic interest, the general opinion never manifests itself 
ith more energy than when women take part in it with 
1 the life of their imagination. Less powerful as well as 
ss stable than that of men when calm, it is far more vehe- 
ent and pertinacious when roused and inflamed. 

Charles Botta. 

188 sterling's southern fourth reader.* 

Spell and define — 
1. Exhibited. 3. Civilities. 4. Partisans. 

Fortitude. Restraint. 5. Alacrity. 


Spell and define — 

1. Out'growth, that which pro- 4. Sys-tem-at'i-cal-lt, with reg 

ceeds from. ^ ar method. 

At-tain'ments, acquisitions. Dregs, refuse, vilest part. 

2. Fos'sil, a substance dug from Vic'tims, those wholly giver 

the earth. ^P ^°* 

In-cul'ca-ting, enforcing by Dis-si-PA'TioN,evil course of life 

repeated instruction. 5. Pec-tj-la'tion, dishonesty 

3. Fea'si-ble, that may be done. fraud. 

In-fi-del'i-ty, disbelief of Cav'il-ling, raising frivolou 

Christianity. objections. 


1. A true civilization, with all its accompanying bless 
ings, is the outgrowth of Christianity. No nation has eve: 
yet advanced much beyond a state of barbarism, that wai 
not to a great extent under the influence of those ideas tha 
God's word reveals to us. Considerable attainments in j 
certain kind of civilization have been witnessed among na 
tions, whose people have had little or no light from th 
written word. Egypt, Babylon, Greece, and Rome ar 
examples in past history— China, Japan, and India m th 


2. But what was— what is this civilization? The glil 
tering fossil, dug from a mass of rough, unsightly rubbish 
As a & curiosity it may be of some interest ; but as somethin: 
of practical blessing to the world at large, it is utterly worth 
less. It has never gone forth among the people, educating 
the masses, relieving the distressed and suffering, and I 
culcating the great truth that we are one family on eartl 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 189 

mited together by a common brotherhood, each one in his 
dace, to advance the well-being of the others. 

3. All practical, feasible efforts to relieve the temporal 
ufferings of the human family, as well as all efforts to pro- 
aote their spiritual and external good, are the outgrowth 
I Christianity. They have been established and carried 
n generally by professed Christians. Where has infidelity 
r unbelief ever reared up or supported a benevolent institu- 
ion — sending forth its streams of blessings through the 
arth, to make glad the hearts of the poor and needy, the 
ick and the afflicted, the fatherless, and the widow ? 
Vliere such things have not been the direct result of church 
rganization, they have sprung from the individual efforts of 
rarm Christian hearts, burning with love to God and man. 

4. Infidelity may make its boast of benevolence — of love 
) man and of a desire to promote his welfare. It often- 
;mes expresses great zeal for humanity. But it does noth- 
lg more than boast. It never puts its hand to the work 
Systematically, perseveringly, and successfully. It never 
oes down into the dregs of society, raising up the victims 
f dissipation and crime, and restoring them to friends and 

5. It may sneer at those who seek, by well-directed ef- 
>rts, to relieve the spiritual wants of the human race, and 
large them with all sorts of selfishness and peculation; 
ut it never has shown, and never can show, such an array 
fl self-sacrificing laborers for the good of man here, to say 
othing of hereafter, as Christianity can show in any age 
f its existence to which we look. Let those who thus bring 

railing accusation against Christianity cease their cavil- 
ng, till they can point to something that their creed has 
one to relieve the wants of the poor and miserable. All 
le fountains of benevolence and love that are sending forth 
;reams to bless the race are the outgushings of Christ's 
pit in the hearts of His followers. 

Rev. J. M. Sherwood. 

190 sterling's southern fourth reader. 


Oh, what is woman ? what her smile ? 

Her lip of love ? her eye of light ? 
What is she, if her lips revile 

The lowly Jesus ? Love may write 
His name upon her marble brow, 

And linger in her curls of jet : 
The light, spring flowers may scarcely bow 

Beneath her steps ; and yet, and yet, 
Without that meekest grace, she'll be 

A lighter thing than vanity. 


Spell and define — 

1. As-pi-ra'tions, ardent desires. 4. Ru'mi-nate, to chew aga: 

2. De-jec'tton, depression of mind. what has been slightly chc 
In-qui-e'tude, restlessness. ed and swallowed. 

3. Piques, excites to action. 


1. The solicitudes, the afflictions, the aspirations of th 
life, are a proof that Man, less contented here than the bruti 
has another destiny. If our end were here, if we had not 
ing after this life to expect — if here were our country, ov 
final home, and the only scene of our felicity — why does n< 
our present lot fill the measure of our happiness and oi 
hopes ? 

2. If we are born only for the pleasure of the senses, wh 
do not these pleasures suffice ? Why do they always lea^ 
such a void of weariness and dejection in the heart ? 1 
man have no higher destiny than that of the beast, whj 
should not his existence, like the beast's, flow on without 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 191 

sare, without an inquietude, without a disgust, in the felic- 
ty of the senses and of the flesh ? 

3. If man may hope for a temporal happiness only, why 
ioes he find it nowhere, permanently, on the earth? 
Whence comes it that riches only bring disquiet; that 
onors speedily lose their charm; that pleasures fatigue; 
nd that knowledge confounds him, and, far from satisfying, 
iques his curiosity ? Whence is it that all these things 
ollectively cannot fill the immensity of his desires, but 
till leave him something to long for ? 

4. All other creatures seem happy, after their nature, in 
leir situation. The beasts of the field ruminate without 
uvyuig the destiny of man, who inhabits cities and sunip- 
ious palaces. The birds rejoice amid the branches and in 
le air, without thinking if there are creatures better off 
lan they on the earth. 

5. Throughout the domain of nature all are happy, all in 
leir element, save only man ; and he, in his best estate, is 

stranger to absolute content ; he only is a prey to his de- 
res, is the sport of his anxieties, finds his punishment in 
is hopes, becomes sad and wearied in the midst of his 
leasures, and finds nothing here below on which his heart 
in steadily repose. Massillon. 

Spell and define — 

Solicitudes. 2. Void. 4. Sumptuous. 

Destiny. 3. Permanently. 5. Absolute. 

Felicity. Confounds. Anxieties. 


Spell and define — 

Dec'a-logue, the ten com- Pal'try, vile, mean. 

mandments. 3. Goal, the point to be reached. 

Pri'mal, chief, first. 4. Ad-vert', turn to. 
Re-flec'tion, contemplation, Au'gurs, conjectures, guesses. 

thought. 5. Chide, reprove, blame. 

192 sterling's southern fourth reader. 


1. The Almighty regards with favorable eye the effort! 
of filial duty. The first promise in the decalogue is to hin 
that honoreth his father and mother. It is the primal bone 
of society, which the world, depraved and corrupt as it niaj 
be, respects with deferential homage. 

2. Who is there that does not admire the filial love oi 
the great Epaminondas, who declared that the greatest 
pleasure which the renowned victory of Leuctra had afford 
ed him, consisted in the reflection that his aged parents hac 
lived to rejoice in his fortune ? It was a noble spectacle 
amid the flames that were consuming Troy, and while tb 
eager multitude were intent only on rescuing their paltn 
treasure, to see the dutiful iEneas bearing on his shoulder 
the venerable Anchises, his aged father, to a place of safety 

3. We can scarcely contemplate a sublimer spectacL 
than that of a virtuous youth, urged on in his struggle ft> 
knowledge, not only by the love of science and by a sens 
of its importance, but burning with the holy purpose oJ 
making, by his mental triumphs, a father's heart beat wit- 
delight, and a mother's breast glow with rapture ; sacrifi( 
ing, with manly energy, the customary follies of his age 
yielding his soul to the effort, and, like a successful com 
petitor in a mighty race, pressing onward to the goal o" 
honors, fame, and wealth. If the bosom of a parent eve 
burns with joy, it is in witnessing the efforts of such a soi 

4. If, when contemplating the possibility of his own pr<j 
mature dismissal from the world, his soul can advert wit| 
comfort to any anchor for the shattered vessel which 
leaves behind, it is, when, revolving in the recesses of hi 
burdened mind the prospects and fortunes of his bereave 
family, he augurs, from the energy, the decision, the dil 
gence, the character of a son, that his wife and childre 
will yet have one around whom they may cling with hope 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 


ne arm to stay them in distress; one pillar to support 
lem ; one shield to ward from them the perils of desolate 
ddowhood and of orphan helplessness. 

5, Take, then, young gentlemen, a retrospect of your 
ast lives ; and when, from the giddy thoughtlessness of 
oath, your consciences shall reproach and chide you with 
eglect and disobedience, hasten to ask forgiveness, and 
mew your vows of veneration and fidelity. 

6. And be assured, my dear young friends, that when the 
rogress of time, or the casualties of life, or the invasions 
f disease shall bring on that painful moment in which you 
re to take a last look of the parent who has watched and 
r orked for you, the remembrance of your efforts to gratify 
im will send through your hearts a thrill of satisfaction, 
r hich monarchs on a throne might envy. 

Hon. Chaeles Manet. 








Spell and define- 


5. Retrospect. 

6. Casualties. 


Spell and define — 

Som'bee, gloomy, dusky. 9. Ren'o-vated, renewed. 

Pon'der-ous, heavy. Gor'y, bloody. 

Com'pass, attain to, compre- 11. Im-mor/tal-ized, rendered per- 

hend. petual. 


1. Between the rivers Iser and Inn there extends for 
.any leagues an enormous forest of sombre firs and pines. 

is a dreary and almost uninhabited wilderness of wild 
ivines and tangled under-brush. 

194: sterling's southern fourth reader. 

2. Two great roads have been cut through the forest, and 
sundry woodman's paths penetrate it at different points. 
In the centre there is a little hamlet of a few miserable huts 
called Hohenlinden. 

3. In this forest, on the night of the third of December. 
1800, Moreau, with sixty thousand men, encountered the 
Archduke John with seventy thousand Austrian troops, 
The clocks upon the towers of Munich had but just tolled 
the hour of midnight, when both armies were in motion 
each hoping to surprise the other. 

4. A dismal wintry storm was howling over the tree-tops 
and the smothering snow, falling rapidly, obliterated al 
traces of a path, and rendered it almost impossible to drag 
through the drifts the ponderous artillery. 

5. Both parties in the dark, tempestuous night becam< 
entaugled in the forest, and the heads of their columns me. 
in various places. An awful scene of confusion, conflict! 
and carnage then ensued. Imagination cannot compass th 
terrible sublimity of the spectacle. 

6. The dark midnight, the howlings of the wintry storm| 
the driving sheets of snow, the incessant roar of artiller 
and of musketry from one hundred and thirty thousan< 
combatants, the lightning flashes of the guns, the crash o: 
the falling trees as the heavy cannon-balls swept through th 
forest, the floundering of innumerable horsemen bewildere 
in the pathless snow, the shouts of onset, the shriek o 
death, and the burst of martial music from a thousan 
bands — all combined to present a scene of horror and 
demoniac energy which probably even this lost world nev* 
presented before. 

7. The darkness of the black forest was so intense, an 
the snow fell in flakes so thick and fast and blinding, th* 
the combatants could with difficulty see each other. The 
often indeed fired at the flashes gleaming through the gloor 
At times hostile divisions became intermingled in inextn 
cable confusion, and hand to hand, bayonet crossing bayone 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 195 

and sword clashing against sword, they fought with the 
ferocity of demons. 

8. As the advancing and retreating hosts wavered to and 
fro, the wounded, by thousands, were left on the hill-sides 
and in dark ravines, with drifting snow crimsoned with 
blood their only blanket, there in solitude and agony to 
mourn and freeze and die. What death-scenes the eye of 
God must have witnessed that night, in the solitude of that 
dark, tempest-tossed, and blood-stained forest ! 

9. At last the morning dawned through the unbroken 
clouds, and the battle raged with renovated fury. Nearly 
twenjty thousand of the mutilated bodies of the dead and 
wounded were left upon the field, with gory locks frozen to 
their icy pillows, and covered with mounds of snow. 

10. At the end the French were victorious at every point. 
The Austrians tied in dismay, having lost twenty-five thou- 
sand men in killed, wounded, and prisoners, one hundred 
pieces of artillery, and an immense number of wagons. 

11. This terrific combat was witnessed by the poet Camp- 
bell from the summit of a neighboring tower, and has been 
immortalized in his noble verses, which are now familiar 
wherever the English language is known. 

J. S. C. Abbott. 


12. On Linden, when the sun was low, 
All bloodless lay th' untrodden snow, 
And dark as winter was the flow 

Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 

13. But Linden saw another sight, 

When the drum beat, at dead of night, 
Commanding fires of death to light 
The darkness of her scenery. 

196 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

14. By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, 
Each horseman drew his battle-blade, 
And furious every charger neighed, 

To join the dreadful revelry. 

15. Then shook the hills with thunder riven, 
Then rushed the steed to battle driven, 
And louder than the bolts of heaven, 

Far flashed the red artillery. 

16. But redder yet that light shall glow, 
On Linden's hills of blood-stained snow, 
And bloodier yet the torrent flow 

Of Iser, rolling rapidly. 

17. 'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun 
Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun, 
Where furious Frank and fiery Hun 

Shout in their sulph'rous canopy. 

18. The combat deepens. On, ye brave, 
Who rush to glory, or the grave ! 
Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave ! 

And charge with all thy chivalry ! 

19. Few, few, shall part where many meet ! 
The snow shall be their winding-sheet, 
And every turf beneath their feet 

Shall be a soldier's sepulchre. 


Spell and define — 

1. Ravines. 7. Inextricable. 14. Arrayed. 

2. Sundry. Ferocity. 17. Canopy. 
4. Obliterated. 8. Crimsoned. 19. Turf. 

6. Incessant. 9. Mutilated. Sepulchre. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 197 

lesson lxiil . 
Spell and define — 

I Sem-i-de'mon, half devil. 3. Bake, the points that stand 

En-chant'ed, fascinated, be- backward in an arrow to pre< 

witched. vent its pulling out. 

J. Il-lu'sive, deceitful, false. Leech, a physician. 

Gem, adorn, embellish. 4. Mentor, counsellor, monitor. 


1 . At eighteen the true narrative of life is yet to be com- 
menced. Before that time, we sit listening to a tale, a mar- 
vellous fiction; delightful sometimes, and sad sometimes; 
almost always unreal. Before that time, our world is he- 
roic ; its inhabitants half-divine or semi-demon ; its scenes are 
Iream-scenes ; darker woods, and stranger hills ; brighter 
skies, more dangerous waters ; sweeter flowers, more tempt- 
ing fruits ; wider plains, drearier deserts, sunnier fields than 
ire found in nature, overspread our enchanted globe. What 
a moon we gaze on before that time ! How the trembling 
of our hearts at her aspect bears witness to its unutterable 
beauty. As to our sun, it is a burning heaven — the world 
of gods. 

2. At that time, at eighteen, drawing near the confines 
of illusive, void dreams, Elf-land lies behind us, the shores 
of reality rise in front. These shores are yet distant : they 
look so blue, soft, gentle, we long to reach them. In sun- 
shine we see a green beneath the azure, as of spring mead- 
ows ; we catch glimpses of silver lines, and imagine the 
roll of living waters. Could we but reach this land, we 
think to hunger and thirst no more ; whereas many a wil- 
derness, and often the flood of Death, or some stream of 
sorrow as cold and almost as black as Death, is to be crossed 
ere true bliss can be tasted. Every joy that life gives must 
be earned ere it is secured ; and hoAV hardly secured, those 

198 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

only know who have wrestled for great prizes. The heart's 
blood must gem with red beads the brow of the combat- 
ant, before the wreath of victory rustles over it. 

3. At eighteen we are not aware of this. Hope, when 
she smiles on us, and promises happiness to-morrow, is im- 
plicitly believed : Love, when he comes wandering like a 
lost angel to our door, is at once admitted, welcomed, em- 
braced ; his quiver is not seen ; if his arrows penetrate, their 
wound is like a thrill of new life ; there are no fears of 
poison, none of the barb which no leech's hand can ex- 
tract ; that perilous passion — an agony ever in some of its 
phases ; with many, an agony throughout — is believed to 
be an unqualified good ; in short, at eighteen, the school of 
experience is to be entered, and her humbling, crushing, 
grinding, but yet purifying and invigorating lessons are yet 
to be learned. 

4. Alas, Experience ! No other mentor has so wasted 
and frozen a face as yours ; none wears a robe so black, 
none bears a rod so heavy, none with hand so inexorable, 
draws the novice so sternly to his task, and forces him with 
authority so resistless to its acquirement. It is by your in- 
structions alone that man or woman can ever find a safe 
track through life's wilds ; without it, how they stumble, 
how they stray ! On what forbidden grounds do they in- 
trude, down what dread declivities are they hurled ! 

Charlotte Bbonte. 

Spell and define— 

1. Narrative. 2. Wrestled. 3. Phases. 

Unreal. Rustles. Invigorating. 


Spell and define — 

5. Abo'ma, fragrance. 23. Vague, fleeting, unsettled. 

7. Quiv'er-ino, trembling. 34. A-dieu', farewell. 

10. Puls'ing, beating. 38, A-pace', quick, fast. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 199 


. Lay him down gently, where shadows lie still 
And cool, by the side of the bright mountain rill, 
Where spreads the soft grass its velvety sheen, 
A welcoming couch for repose so serene ; 

. Where opening flowers their aroma breathe 
From clustering tendrils that lovingly wreathe, 
And quivering leaves their murmurous song 
In whispers are chanting the bright summer long — 
There lay the young hero. See, from his side 

). Flows swiftly the current whose dark, pulsing tide 
Is bearing away the bright sands of life, 
And closing for ever this wild dream of strife. 
Feebly uncloses the fast dimming eye, 
Once bright as the jewels that light up the sky ; 

5. A moment he looks on the bough-spreading dome, 
Then whispers, in anguish, " Oh, take — take me home ! 
But no ! far away o'er mountain and fen, 
Lies the home that I never shall enter again ; 
Whose loving ones wait to welcome in joy, 

0. Back to its sunlight, their own soldier-boy. 
Father, when proudly you gave up your child, 
And brushed back the tears while your lips sadly smiled, 
How vague was the thought that we never more 
Should meet till we stood on eternity's shore. 

5. And, mother, again I feel thy hot tears 

Rain on my cheek. Not the mildew of years, 
Nor shadows of death can tarnish the bliss, 
The blessing you gave in that last, holy kiss. 
Oh, darkly shall gather clouds o'er the hearth 

!0. That echoed once gayly with music and mirth ; 
O God ! may Thy Spirit be there to sustain, 
When record shall mingle my name with the slain. 
And one, too, whose fair cheek whiter still grew 
As I pressed on her lip my last sad adieu ! 

200 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

35. Will she soon forget ?" Then raising his hand, 
He lovingly gazed on the small golden band 
That circled his finger — while over his face 
The gray shadows of death seemed stealing apace. 
" Dear comrades, farewell— my battles are o'er ; 
40. Together in conflict we'll rally no more ; 
'Tis bitter to die ere my country is free, 
But painted in glory her future I see. 
Farewell ! life is o'er, earth fades from my sight, 
Around me is closing death's long, dreamless night." 
45. Thus softly, as star-light melts into day, 
On pinions of angels his soul passed away. 
Those strong men are bowed— in anguish they weep 
O'er the dead still so fair, in death's quiet sleep. 
Then, parting the flowers, they laid him to rest, 
50. And heaped the green sod o'er the young martyr's breastj 


Spell and define — 

2. Rill. 15. Dome. 26. Mildew. 

3. Sheen. 16. Anguish. 27. Tarnish. 
6. Tendrils. 17. Fen. 50. Martyr. 


Spell and define — 

1. Surg'ino, swelling and rolling 3. A-main', suddenly, furiously 
like waves. 4. Fal'ter, hesitate, tremble. 

Sic'kle, a reaping-hook. 5. Hordes, companies, crowds. 


1. From the Rio Grande's waters to the icy lakes of Maine, 
Let all exult ! for we have met the enemy again— 


Beneath their stern old mountains, we have met them in 

their pride, 
And rolled from Buena Vista back the battle's bloody 

Where the enemy came surging, like the Mississippi's 

And the reaper, Death, was busy with his sickle red 

with blood. 

2. Santa Anna boasted loudly, that before two hours were 

His lancers through Saltillo should pursue us thick and 

fast ; 
On came his soldier regiments, line marching after line ; 
Lo, their great standards in the sun like sheets of silver 

shine ! 
With thousands upon thousands, yea, with more than 

four to one, 
A forest of bright bayonets gleams fiercely in the sun. 

3. Upon them with your squadrons, May! outleaps the 

flaming steel, 

Before his serried column how the frightened lancers 
reel ! 

They flee amain. Now to the left, to stay their triumph 

Or else the day is surely lost in horror and despair ; 

For their hosts are pouring swiftly on, like a river in the 

Our flank is turned, and on our left their cannon's thun- 

4. Now, brave artillery ! bold dragoon ! Steady, my men, 

and calm ! 
Through rain, cold, hail, and thunder ; now nerve each 
gallant arm ; 


What, though their shot fall round us here, still thicker 

than the hail ! 
We'll stand against them, as the rock stands firm against 

the gale. 
Lo! their battery is silenced now; our iron hail still 

showers ; 
They falter, halt, retreat ! Hurrah ! the glorious day is 


5. Now charge again, Santa Anna! or the day is surely 

For back, like broken waves, along our left your hordes 

are tossed. 
Still louder roar two batteries — his strong reserve moves 

More work is there before you, men, ere the good fight 

is won ; 
Now for your wives and children stand ! steady, my 

braves, once more ! 
Now for your lives, your honor, fight ! as you never 

fought before. 

6. Ho, Hardin breasts it bravely ! McKee and Bissell there 
Stand firm before the storm of hail that fills the aston- 
ished air. 

The lancers are upon them, too ! the foe swarms ten to 

one — 
Hardin is slain — McKee and Clay the last time see the 

And many another gallant heart in that last desperate 

Grew cold, its last thoughts turning to its loved ones 

far away. 

7. Still sullenly the cannon roared — but, died away at last, 
And o'er the dead and dying came the evening shadows 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 203 

And then above the mountains, rose the cold moon's 

silver shield, 
And patiently and pityingly looked down upon the field ; 
And careless of his wounded, and neglectful of his dead, 
Despairingly and sullen, in the night Santa Anna fled. 

Gen. Albert Pike, 

Spell and define — 
Exult. 3. Serried. 6. Fray. 

Standard. Flank. 1. Sullen. 


Spell and define — 

. Tete' a tete', face to face, in 4. E-lope', run away. 

private. Se'quel, succeeding part. 

, Pro-lix', of long duration. 6. Nup'tials, marriage ceremony 


.. Do you know that a wedding has happened on high, 
And who were the parties united ? 
'Twas the Sun and the Moon ! in the halls of the sky 
They were joined, and our continent witnessed the tie- 
No continent else was invited. 

>. Their courtship was tedious, for seldom they met 
Tete a tete, while long centuries glided ; 
But the warmth of his love she could hardly forget, 
For, though distant afar, he could smile on her yet, 
Save when Earth the fond couple divided. 

3. But why so prolix the courtship ? and why 
So long was postponed their connection ? 
That the bridegroom was anxious, 'twere vain to deny, 
Since the heat of his passion pervaded the sky ; 
But the bride was renowned for reflection. 

204 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

4. Besides, 'tis reported their friends were all vexed ; 

The match was deemed, somehow, unequal ; 
And when bid to the wedding, each made some pretext 
To decline, till the lovers, worn out and perplexed, 

Were compelled to elope, in the sequel. 

5. Mars and Jupiter never such business could bear, 

So they haughtily kept themselves from it ; 
Herschel dwelt at such distance he could not be there 
Saturn sent, with reluctance, his Ring to the fair, 

By the hands of a trustworthy Comet. 

6. Only one dim, pale Planet, of Planets the least, 

Condescended the nuptials to honor ; 
And that seemed like skulking away to the East : 
Some assert it was Mercury acting as priest, 

Some Venus a-peeping — shame on her ! 

1. Earth in silence rejoiced, as the bridegroom and bride 
In their mutual embraces would linger ; 
Whilst careering through regions of light at his side, 
She displayed the bright Ring, not " a world too wide " 
For a conjugal pledge, on her finger. 

8. Henceforth shall these orbs, to all husbands and wives, 
Shine as patterns of duty respected ; 
All her splendor and glory from him she derives, 
And she shows to the world, the kindness he gives 
Is faithfully prized and reflected. 

H. S. Ellenwood. ' 

Spell and define — 

3. Pervaded. 5. Reluctance. 7. Conjugal. 

4. Decline. 6. Condescended. 8. Splendor. 



Spell and define — 

Trans-lu'cent, clear, trans- 8. Daz'zled, dimmed by too 
parent, strong a light. 

Lus'trous, bright, shining. 9. Plaintive, mournful, sad. 

Ma-raud'ing, roving in search 10. Fan-tas'tic, fanciful, odd. 

of plunder. 13. La-goon', shallow pond, 

Som'no-lent, sleepy, drowsy. marsh. 


1. The cock hath crowed. I hear the doors unbarred ; 

Down to the moss-grown porch my way I take, 
And hear, beside the well within the yard, 

Full many an ancient, quacking, splashing drake, 
And gabbling goose, and noisy brood-hen— all 
Responding to yon strutting gobbler's call. 

2. The dew is thick upon the velvet grass — 

The porch-rails hold it in translucent drops, 
And as the cattle from th' inclosure pass, 

Each one, alternate, slowly halts and crops 
The tall, green spears, with all their dewy load, 
Which grow beside the well-known pasture-road. 

3. A lustrous polish is on all the leaves — 

The birds flit in and out with varied notes — 
The noisy swallows twitter 'neath the eaves — 

A partridge-whistle through the garden floats, 
While yonder gaudy peacock harshly cries, 
As red and gold flush all the eastern skies. 

t. Up comes the sun : through the dense leaves a spot 
Of splendid light drinks up the dew ; the breeze 

206 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Which late made leafy music dies ; the day grows hot, 

And slumbrous sounds come from marauding bees ; 
The burnished river like a sword-blade shines, 
Save where 'tis shadowed by the solemn pines. 


5. Over the farm is brooding silence now — 

No reaper's song — no raven's clangor harsh — 
No bleat of sheep— no distant low of cow- 
No croak of frogs within the spreading marsh — 
No bragging cock from littered farm-yard crows, 
The scene is steeped in silence and repose. 

6. A trembling haze hangs over all the fields — 

The panting cattle in the river stand, 
Seeking the coolness which its wave scarce yields. 

It seems a Sabbath through the drowsy land : 
So hushed is all beneath the summer's spell, 
I pause and listen for some faint church bell. 

1. The leaves are motionless— the. song-birds mute— 
The very air seems somnolent and sick : 
The spreading branches with o'er-ripened fruit 
Show in the sunshine all their clusters thick, 
While now and then a mellow apple falls 
With a dull sound within the orchard's walls. 

8. The sky has but one solitary cloud, 

Like a dark island in a sea of light ; 
The parching furrows 'twixt the corn-rows ploughed 

Seem fairly dancing in my dazzled sight, 
While over yonder road a dusty haze 
Grows reddish purple in the sultry blaze. 


9. That solitary cloud grows dark and wide, 
While distant thunder rumbles in the air, 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 207 

A fitful ripple breaks the river's tide — 

The lazy cattle are no longer there, 
But homeward come in long procession slow, 
With many a bleat and many a plaintive low. 

). Darker and wider-spreading o'er the west 
Advancing clouds, each in fantastic form, 
And mirrored turrets on the river's breast 
Tell in advance the coming of a storm — 
Closer and brighter glares the lightning's flash, 
And louder, nearer, sounds the thunder's crash. 

I The air of evening is intensely hot, 

The breeze feels heated as it fans my brows — 

Now sullen rain-drops patter down like shot — 
Strike in the grass, or rattle 'mid the boughs. 

A sultry lull : and then a gust again, 

And now I see the thick-advancing rain. 

2. It fairly hisses as it comes along, 

And where it strikes bounds up again in spray, 
As if 'twere dancing to the fitful song 

Made by the trees, which twist themselves and sway 
In contest with the wind which rises fast, 
Until the breeze becomes a furious blast. 

J. And now, the sudden, fitful storm has fled, 
The clouds lie piled up in the splendid west, 
In massive shadow tipped with purplish red, 

Crimson or gold. The scene is one of rest ; 
And on the bosom of yon still lagoon 
I see the crescent of the pallid moon. 

James Barron Hope. 

Spell and define — 


9. Rumble. 11. Sultry. 
Fitful. Lull. 

208 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

lesson lxviii. 
Spell and define — 

1. Sat-is-fi'eth, gratifies to the Glo'ri-fied, honored, exalted. 

full extent. 4. Void, null, ineffectual. 
Cov'e-nant, an agreement be- Pros'per, be successful, 

tween two or more persons. 5. Fir'-tree, a species of pine. 

2. Com-man'der, a chief. 

1. Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, 
and he that hath no money ; come ye, buy and eat ; yea, 
come, buy wine and milk without money and without price 
Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread r 
and your labor for that which satisfieth not ? hearken dili- 
gently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let youn 
soul delight itself in fatness. Incline your ear, and come 
unto me : hear, and your soul shall live ; and I will make 
an everlasting covenant with you, even the sure mercies of 

2. Behold, I have given him for a witness to the people, £ 
leader and commander to the people. Behold, thou shall 
call a nation that thou knowest not, and nations that knew 
not thee shall run unto thee because of the Lord thy God 
and for the Holy One of Israel ; for he hath glorified thee. 

3. Seek ye the Lord while he may be found, call ye upor 
him while he is near : let the wicked forsake his way, anc 
the unrighteous man his thoughts : and let him return unt< 
the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him ; and to oui 
God, for he will abundantly pardon. 

4. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither an 
your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heaveni 
are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than you? 
ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts. For as the 
rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returned 
not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 209 

brth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and 
»read to the eater : so shall my word be that goeth forth 
ut of my mouth : it shall not return unto me void, but it 
hall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in 
ae thing whereto I sent it. 

5. For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with 
eace : the mountains and the hills shall break forth be- 
>re you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall 
ap their hands. Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir- 
ee, and instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle -tree : 
id it shall ]be to the Lord for a name, for an everlasting 
gn that shall not be cut off. Bible. 


Spell and define — 

Sack'cloth a coarse kind of 5. De'fer, delay, put off. 

cloth worn in mourning. 6, Ob-la'tion, sacrifice. 

Heark'ened, listened 7. Sanct'u-a-ry, the temple at 

Tres'pass, sin. Jerusalem. 

Re-kown', honor, distinction. Con-sum-ma'tion, completion, 

Re-proach', object of con- end. 



1. In the first year of Darius the son of Ahasuerus, of 
e seed of the Medes, which was made king over the 
aim of- the Chaldeans ; in the first year of his. reign I 
aniel understood by books the number of the years, where- 

the word of the Lord came to Jeremiah the prophet, 
at he would accomplish seventy years in the desolations 

2. And I set my face unto the Lord God, to seek by 
ayer and supplications, with fasting, and sackcloth, and 
ties : and I prayed unto the Lord my God, and made my 

210 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

confession, and said, O Lord, the great and dreadful God 
keeping the covenant and mercy to them that love him, am 
to them that keep his commandments ; we have sinned, an< 
have committed iniquity, and have done wickedly, an< 
have rebelled, even by departing from thy precepts and 
from thy judgments : neither have we hearkened unto th; 
servants the prophets, which spake in thy name to ou 
kings, our princes, and our fathers, and to all the people ot 
the land. 

3. O Lord, righteousness belongeth unto thee, but unt( 
us confusion of faces, as at this day ; to the men of Judah, 
and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and unto all Israel than 
are near, and that are far off, through all the countriei 
whither thou hast driven them, because of their trespass thai 
they have trespassed against thee. O Lord, to us belong 
eth confusion of face, to our kings, to our princes, and to ouji 
fathers, because we have sinned against thee. To the Lore 
our God belong mercies and forgivenesses, though we have 
rebelled against him ; neither have we obeyed the voice o; 
the Lord our God, to walk in his laws, which he set before 
us by his servants the prophets. Yea, all Israel have 
transgressed thy law, even by departing, that they might 
not obey thy voice ; therefore the curse is poured upon us, 
and the oath that is written in the law of Moses the se^ 
vant of God, because we have sinned against him. 

4. And he hath confirmed his words, which he spake 
against us, and against our judges that judged us, by bring 
ing upon us a great evil : for under the whole heaven hath 
not been done as hath been done upon Jerusalem. As it ii 
written in the law of Moses, all this evil is come upot; 
us : yet made we not our prayer before the Lord our GodJ 
that we might turn from our iniquities, and understand thy 
truth. Therefore hath the Lord watched upon the evil, and 
brought it upon us : for the Lord our God is righteous m 
all his works which he doeth : for we obeyed not his voice. 
And now; O Lord our God, that hast brought thy people 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 2fl 

>rth out of the land of Egypt, with a mighty hand, and 
ast gotten thee renown, as at this day ; we have sinned, we 
ave done wickedly. 

5. O Lord, according to all thy righteousness, I beseech 
lee, let thine anger and thy fury be turned away from thy 
ty Jerusalem, thy holy mountain : because for our sins, 
id for the iniquities of our fathers, Jerusalem and thy peo- 
e are become a reproach to all that are about us. Now 
Lerefore, O our God, hear the prayer of thy servant, and 
s supplications, and cause thy face to shine upon thy 
nctuary that is desolate, for the Lord's sake. O my God, 
cline thine ear, and hear ; open thine eyes, and behold 
ir desolations, and the city which is called by thy name : 
r we do not present our supplications before thee for our 
^hteousness, but for thy great mercies. O Lord, hear ; O 
)rd, forgive; O Lord, hearken and do; defer not, for 
ine own sake, O my God : for thy city and thy people 
e called by thy name. 

6. And whiles I was speaking, and praying, and confess- 
I my sin and the sin of my people Israel, and presenting 
| supplication before the Lord my God for the holy moun- 
in of my God ; yea, whiles I was speaking in prayer, even 
e man Gabriel, whom I had seen in the vision at the be- 
nning, being caused to fly swiftly, touched me about the 
ne of the evening oblation. And he informed me, and 
Iked with me, and said, O Daniel, I am now come forth to 
ye thee skill and understanding. At the beginning of thy 
pplications the commandment came forth, and I am come 
show thee ; for thou art greatly beloved : therefore under- 
ind the matter, and consider the vision. Seventy weeks 
I determined upon thy people and upon thy holy city, to 
ish the transgression, and to make an end of sins, and to 
ike reconciliation for iniquity, and to bring in everlasting 
^hteousness, and to seal up the vision and prophecy, and to 
oint the Most Holy. 

Know therefore and understand, that from the going 

212 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

forth of the commandment to restore and to build Jerusa- 
lem, unto the Messiah the Prince, shall be seven weeks, and 
threescore and two weeks : the street shall be built again, 
and the wall, even in troublous times. And after three- 
score and two weeks shall Messiah be cut off, but not for 
himself : and the people of the prince that shall come shal; 
destroy the city and the sanctuary ; and the end thereof 
shall be with a flood, and unto the end of the war desola 
tions are determined. And he shall confirm the covenam 
with many for one week : and in the midst of the week hi 
shall cause the sacrifice and the oblation to cease, and foi 
the overspreading of abominations he shall make it deso 
late, even until the consummation, and that determinec 
shall be poured upon the desolate. Bible. 

1. Desolation. 

2. Confession. 

3. Confusion. 

Spell and define — 

4. Confirmed. 

5. Supplications. 
Incline. » 

6. Presenting. 


V. Restore. 


Spell and define — 

1. Soil, tarnish, deface. 8. Quenched, put out, d< 

2. Sem'blance, likeness, image. stroyed. 

3. Befit', suit, become. Bihth'iiight, that to whic 
7. Bri'dal, wedding, marriage. one is entitled by birth 


1. Come near ! — ere yet the dust 

Soil the bright paleness of the settled brow, 
Look on your brother, and embrace him now, 

In still and solemn trust : 
Come near ! — once more let kindred lips be pressed 
On his cold cheek ; then bear him to his rest. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 213 

Look yet on this young face ! 
What shall the beauty, from amongst us gone, 
Leave of its image, even where most it shone, 

Gladdening its hearth and race ? 
Dim grows the semblance on man's heart impressed : 
Come near ! and bear the beautiful to rest. 

Ye weep and it is well ; 
For tears befit earth's partings. Yesterday 
Song was upon the lips of this pale clay, 

And sunshine seemed to dwell 
Where'er he moved— the welcome and the blessed: 
Now gaze— and bear the silent unto rest. 

Look yet on him, whose eye 
Meets yours no more in sadness or in mirth ! 
Was he not fair amidst the sons of earth, 

The beings born to die ? 
But not where death has power may love be blessed: 
Come near ! and bear ye the beloved to rest. 

How may the mother's heart 
Dwell on her son, and dare to hope again ? 
The spring's rich promise hath been given in vain, 

The lovely must depart ! 
Is he not gone, our brightest and our best ? 
Come near ! and bear the early called to rest. 

Look on him ! is he laid 
To slumber from the harvest or the chase ? 
Too still and sad the smile upon his face ; 

Yet that, even that, must fade ! 
Death holds not long unchanged his fairest guest : 
Come near ! and bear the mortal to his rest. 

His voice of mirth hath ceased 
Amid the vineyards ! there is left no place 

214 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

For him, whose dust received your vain embrace, 

At the gay bridal feast ! 
Earth must take earth to moulder on her breast : 
Come near ! weep o'er him ! bear him to his rest. 

8. Yet mourn ye not as they 

Whose spirit's light is quenched ! For him the past 
Is sealed. He may not fall, he may not cast 

His birthright's hope away ! 
All is not here of our beloved and blessed : 
Leave ye the sleeper with his God to rest. 

Mrs. Hemans. 


Spell and define — 

1. Blare, noise, roar. 5. Don'jon-keep, the cent 

3. Meed, reward, recompense. building or stronghold of 

Stole, badge of distinction. ancient castle. 

Scroll, record or roll of names. 


1. Two Youths to Fortune as yet unknown, 

Caught Fame's clear trumpet calls, 
As they rang on the air, their defiant blare, 
And each cannon's throat gave a jubilant note. 
Quick they sprang to their feet, each eagerly pre 
To the goal where at last they hoped for rest, 
With a diamond star on each swelling breast, 
In Fame's proud castle-halls. 

2. They gathered their strength, they took up tl 

And rushed to the perilous fray. 
For Ambition's voice with its whisperings clear, 
Told that Fame's proud castle was nothing to feai 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 215 

And away they sped, with steady tread, 
Dreaming of laurels before them spread, 
Thinking of mighl;y heroes dead, 
And glory's fadeless day. 

But alas ! alas ! Ambition's voice 
Whispering to the youths, 
Just tampering, told but of cloth of gold, 
Of the meed of praise and garlands of bays. 
All the briars and thorns that lead to the goal, 
Where the diamond star and the regal stole 
Give a title to fame on History's scroll, 
Were dark and hidden truths. 

But when they stood at the bastion high, 
And saw there was no breach 
In the masonry there — no cruel despair, 
Or cowardly fear, to start the tear, 

Unmanned their frames, but eager and brave, 
Their banners above they boldly wave, 
And learned the lessons The Master gave, 
That Life to all must teach. 

"I'll batter it down"— "I'll batter it down," 
Said Hotspur at the walls. 
" My terrible arm, with its terrible blow, 
In an hour will lay the bastion low : 
And then with a light and easy leap, 
Passing the dismal donjon-keep, 
Secure and strong we'll proudly sweep 
Through Fame's proud castle- halls." 

His terrible arm with terrible blow, 
Went heaving quick and wild, 
The bastion's breast with masonry sound, 
Gave back the blows with elastic bound : 

216 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

And the youth before the hour was past, 
Felt that his strength was failing fast ; 
And sinking, he found himself at last 
As powerless as a child. 

7. "I'll patiently toil, I'll patiently toil," 

Said Fabius at the walls. 
" My strength is so great, that I'll work and I'll wait 
Till the hour shall come for my happier fate ; 
And then with a mind and body strong, 
Moving the great and good among, 
I'll chant the grand and glorious song, 
In Fame's proud castle-halls." 

8. He patiently stood and patiently toiled, 

And stronger grew at length ; 
But the bastion's breast, with its masonry grand, 
Was feeling the touch of his patient hand ; 
And he toiled and toiled and toiled away, 
Till down the bastion fell one day, 
And then he stood in bright array, 
A conqueror in his strength. 

South. Lit. Messenger. 

1. Defiant. 

2. Sped. 

Spell and define- 

3. Tampering. 

4. Bastion. 

5. Dismal. 

6. Elastic. 

7. Chant. 

8. Toiled. 


Spell and define — 
Fltp'pant, talkative, pert. 5. Clev'er, with skill, ability. 

Shal'low, superficial. 
As-sail'ant, one who attacks. 

6. Nour'ished, supported. 
8. Re-piioof', blame, censure. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 217 

all his works praise him. 

1. In that beautiful part of Germany which borders ^ n 
the Rhine, there is a noble estate, as you travel on the 
western bank of the river, which you may see lifting its 
ancient towers, on the opposite side, above the grove of 
trees about as old as itself. 

2. About forty years ago, there lived in that castle a 
noble gentleman, whom we shall call Baron Mansberg. 
He had only one feon, who was not only a comfort to his 
father, but a blessing to all who lived on his father's land. 

3. It happened, on a certain occasion, that, this young 
man being from home, there came a French gentleman to 
the castle, who was a flippant, shallow assailant of that 
faith in Deity which all good men entertain. He began 
talking of sacred things in terms that chilled the old baron's 
blood ; on which the baron reproved him, saying, " Are you 
not afraid of offending God, who reigns above, by speaking 
in such a manner ?" 

4. The gentleman (if gentleman we ought to call him) 
said he knew nothing about God, for he had never seen 
him. The baron this time did not notice what the gentle- 
man said, but the next morning he conducted him about 
his castle grounds, and took occasion first to show him a 
very beautiful picture that hung on the wall. The gentle- 
man admired the picture very much, and said, " Whoever 
drew this picture knows very well how to use the pencil." 

5. " My son drew that picture," said the baron. " Then 
your son is a clever man," replied the gentleman. The 
baron then went with his visitor into the garden, and show- 
ed him many beautiful flowers, and plantations of forest- 
trees. " Who has the ordering of this garden ?" asked the 
gentleman. " My son," replied the baron ; " he knows every 
plant, I may say, from the cedar of Lebanon to the hyssop 
on the wall." "Indeed!" said the gentleman; "I shall 
think very highly of him soon." 


218 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

6 The T^ron then took him into the village, and showed 
him a -°^-9 neat cottage, where his son had established a 
gr >iool, and where he caused all young children who had 
lost their parents to be received and nourished at his own 
expense. The children in the house looked so innocent, 
and so happy, that the gentleman was very much pleased, 
and when he returned to the castle, he said to the baron, 
" What a happy man you are to have so good a son !" 

7. " How do you know I have so good a son ?" " Be- 
cause I have seen his works ; and I know that he must be 
good and clever, if he has done all that you have shown 
me." " But you have not seen him !" " No, but I know 
him very well, because I judge of him by his works " 

8. " True," replied the baron ; " and in this way I judge 
of the character of our heavenly Father. I know, by His 
works, that He is a being of infinite wisdom, and power, 
and goodness." The Frenchman felt the force of the re- 
proof, and was careful not to offend the good baron any 
more by his remarks. From the German. 


Faintly now, thou falling river, 

Like a dream that dies away ; 
Down to ocean gliding ever, 

Keep thy calm unruffled way ; 
Time with such a silent motion, 

Floats along on wings of air, 
To eternity's dark ocean, 

Burying all its treasures there. 

Roses bloom, and then they wither, 
Cheeks are bright, then fade and die, 

Shapes of light are wafted hither, 
Then, like visions, hurry by ; 


Quick as clouds at evening driven 

O'er the many-colored west, 
Years are bearing us to heaven, 

Home of happiness and rest. 


Spell and define — 

En-list'ed, enrolled as a soldier. Bur'go-m as-ter, the chief magis- 
Name'sake, having the same trate of a town or city in Hol- 

name. land. 

Stom'ach, bear without opposition. Czar, the emperor of Russia. 


The following scene is founded on an incident in the life of Peter 
the Great, Czar of Russia, who in 1697 went to Holland to learn the 
art of ship-building. He assumed the disguise and name of a common 
workman, was employed in the ship-yards at Saardam, and received 
wages like a common ship-carpenter. 

Peter. (Disguised as a carpenter.) Well, before I quit 
this place, I may let you into my secret. 

Stanmitz. And do you think of leaving us ? 

Pet. I have now been absent from my native country 
a twelvemonth. I have acquired some knowledge of ship- 
building — the object for which I came here — and it is time 
I should return home. 

Sta. Our master, Von Block, will be sorry to lose you, 
because you are the most industrious fellow in the yard ; 
and I shall be sorry, because — because, Peter, I like you. 

Pet. And I don't dislike you. 

Sta. Peter, I think I may venture to tell you a secret. 

Pet. Why, surely you have done nothing to be ashamed 

Sta. No, not ashamed; but I'm considerably afraid. 
Know, then, that I was born at Moscow. 

220 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Pet. Well, there is no crime in being born at Moscow ; 
besides, that was no fault of yours. 

JSta. That's not it. Listen ! It happened, one day, that 
a party of soldiers halted near my mother's hut ; the com- 
manding officer presently cast an eye at me, and was so 
amazingly taken with my appearance, that he requested I'd 
make one of his company. I was about to decline ; but 
he assured me that as the Czar Peter, (your namesake, you 
know,) having particular occasion for my services, would 
take it as an offence if I refused the invitation ; so he forth- 
with clapped a musket on my shoulder, and marched me off. 

Pet. Ay, you were enlisted. 

Sta. Enlisted ! why, I can't say but I was. Now, I was 
always an independent sort of fellow, fond of my own way, 
and couldn't stomach being ordered about against my in- 

Pet. {Aside.) So, so ! This fellow is a deserter ! 

JSta. I put up with it a long while, though ; till, one bit- 
ter cold morning in December, just at three o'clock, I was 
roused from my comfortable, warm sleep, to turn out and 
mount guard on the bleak, blustering corner of a rampart, 
in the snow. It was too bad, wasn't it ? 

Pet. I don't doubt you would rather have been warm in 

JSta. Well, as I couldn't keep myself warm, I laid down 
my musket and began to walk ; then I began to run, and — 
will you believe it ? — I didn't stop running till I found my- 
self five leagues away from the outposts ! 

Pet. So, then, you are a deserter ! 

Hta. A deserter ! You call that being a deserter, do you ? 
Well, putting this and that together, I shouldn't wonder if 
I were a deserter. 

Pet. Do you know, my dear fellow, that if you are dis- 
covered you will be shot ? 

Sta. I have some such idea. Indeed, it occurred to me 
at the time ; so, thinking it hardly worth while to be shot 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 221 

for being so short a distance as only five leagues away from 
my post, I made the best of my way to Saardam ; and here 
I am. 

Pet. This is an awkward affair, indeed, and if the burgo- 
master were informed of it — however, be assured your 
secret is safe in my keeping. 

Sta. I don't doubt you, for I suspect you're in a similar 
scrape yourself. 

Pet. I ? Ridiculous ! 

Sta. There's something very mysterious about you, at 
any rate. But I say — you will keep my secret ? 

Pet. Oh, trust me for that. 

Sta. Because, if it should get to the ears of any of the 
agents of the Czar, I should be in rather a bad fix, you 

Pet. The Czar shall know no more about it than he does 
now, if I can help it ; so don't be afraid. He himself, they 
say, is rather fond of walking away from his post. 

Sta. Ha, ha ! Is he ? Then he has no business to com- 
plain of me for running away — eh ? 

Pet. You must look out for him, though. They say he 
has a way of finding out every thing. Don't be too sure of 
your secret. 

Sta. Come, now; he's in Russia, and I'm in Holland; 
and I don't see where's the danger, unless you mean to blab. 

Pet. Fellow-workman, do you take me for a traitor ? 

Sta. Not so, Peter ; but, if I am ever taken up here as a 
deserter, you will have been the only one to whom I have 
told my secret. 

Pet. A fig for the Czar ! 

Sta, Don't say that— he's a good fellow, is Peter the 
Czar ; and you'll have to fight me if you say a word in his 

Pet. Oh, if that's the case, I'll say no more. 


222 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Spell and define — 

Industrious. Bleak. Mysterious. 

Halted. Outpost. Blab. 

Deserter. Awkward. Dispraise. 


Spell and define— 
Drag, a burden, encumbrance. Duc'at, a European coin equal to 

Screen, used to shelter or conceal. about one dollar. 
Mess'mate, an associate in eating. Court'-Mar'tial, a court consist, 
O-ter-hatjled', turned over for ing of military officers to try 

examination. offences of a military character. 


Stanmitz— Mrs. Stanmitz— Peter the Great— Officer. 

Stanmitz. Well, mother, I mustn't be skulking about 
here in Moscow any longer. I must leave you, and go 
back to Holland to my trade. At the risk of my life I 
came here, and at the risk of my life I must go back. 

Mrs. Stanmitz. Ah, Michael, Michael, if it hadn't been 
for your turning deserter, you might have been a corporal 
by this time ! 

Sta. Look you, mother— I was made a soldier against 
my will, and the more I saw of a soldier's life the more I 
hated it. As a poor journeyman carpenter, I am at least 
free and independent; and if you will come with me to 
Holland, you shall take care of my wages and keep house 
for me. 

Mrs. S. I should be a drag upon you, Michael. You will 
be wanting to get married, by and by ; moreover, it will 
be hard for me to leave the old home at my time of life. 

Sta. Some one is knocking at the door. Wait, mother, 
till I have concealed myself. [Enter Peter the Great, dis- 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 223 

Pet. What, ho ! comrade ! No skulking ! Come out 
from behind that screen! Didn't I see you through the, 
window, as I passed ? 

Sta. Is it possible ? Peter ! My old fellow- workman ! 
Give us your hand, my hearty ! How came you to be here 
in Moscow? There is no ship-building going on so far 

Pet. No ; but there is at St. Petersburg, the new city 
that the Czar is building up. 

Sta. They say the Czar is in Moscow just now. 
Pet. Yes ; he passed through your street this morning. 
Sta. So I heard. But I didn't see him. I say, Peter, 
how did you find me out ? 

Pet. Why, happening to see your mother's sign over the 

door, it occurred to me, after I returned to the palace 

Sta. The palace? « 

Pet. Yes ; I always call the place where I put up a pal- 
ace. It is a way I have. 

Sta. You always were a funny fellow, Peter ! 
Pet. As I was saying, it occurred to me that Mrs. Stan- 
mitz might be the mother or aunt of my old messmate ; and 

so I put on this disguise 

Sta. Ha, ha ! Sure enough, it is a disguise — the disguise 
of a gentleman. Peter, where did you get such fine clothes ? 
Pet. Don't interrupt me, sir ! 

Sta. Don't joke in that way again, Peter ! Do you know 
you half frightened me by the stern tone in which you said, 
" Don't interrupt me, sir !" But 1 see how it is, Peter, and 
I thank you. You thought you could learn something of 
your old friend, and so stopped to inquire, and saw me 
through the window. 

Pet. Ah, Stanmitz, many's the big log we have chopped 
at together through the long summer day in Yon Block's 

Sta. That we have, Peter I Why not go back with me 
to Saardam? 

224: sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Pet. I can get better wages at St. Petersburg. 

Sta. If it weren't that I'm afraid of being overhauled for 
taking that long walk away from my post, I would go to 
St. Petersburg with you. 

Pet. How happened you to venture back here ? 

Sta. Why, you must know that this old mother of mine 
wanted to see me badly ; and then I had left behind here a 
sweetheart. Don't laugh, Peter ! She has waited all this 
while for me ; and the misery of it is that I am too poor to 
take her along with me yet. But next year, if my luck con- 
tinues, I mean to return and marry her. 

Pet. What if I should inform against you ? I could make 
a pretty little sum by exposing a deserter. 

Sta. Don't joke on that subject ! You'll frighten the old 
woman. Peter, old boy, I'm so glad to see you. Halloo ! 
Soldiers at the door ! What does this mean ? An officer ? 
Peter, excuse me, but I must leave you. 

Pet. Stay ! I give you my word, it is not you they want. 
They are friends of mine. 

Sta. Oh, if that's the case, I'll stay. But do you know 
one of those fellows looks wonderfully like my old command- 
ing officer ? {Enter Officer^ 

Officer. A dispatch from St. Petersburg, your majesty, 
claiming your instant attention. 

Mrs. S. Majesty ! 

Sta. Majesty ! I say, Peter, what does he mean by ma- 
jesty ? 

Officer. Knave ! Know you not that this is the Czar ? 

Sta. What !— Eh ?— This ?— Nonsense ! This is my old 
friend Peter. 

Officer. Down on your knees, rascal, to Peter the Great, 
Czar of Russia ! 

Mrs. S. O your majesty, your majesty, don't hang the 
poor boy. He knew no better ! He knew no better ! He 
is my only son! Let him be whipped, but don't hang 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 225 

jSta. Nonsense, mother! This is only one of Peter's 
jokes. Ha, ha, ha ! You keep it up well, though. And 
those are dispatches you are reading, Peter. 

Officer. Rascal ! Dare you interrupt his majesty ? 

Sta. Twice you've called me rascal. Don't you think 
that's being rather familiar? Peter, have you any objec- 
tion to my pitching your friend out of the window ? 

Officer. Ha ! Now I look closer, I remember you ! Sol 
diers, arrest this fellow ! He's a deserter ! 

Sta. It's all up' with me ! And there stands Peter, as 
calm as if nothing had happened. 

Mrs. S. I'm all in a maze ! Good Mr. Officer, spare the 
poor boy ! 

Officer. He must go before a court-martial. He must be 

Mrs. 8. O woe is me ! woe is me ! That ever my poor 
boy should be shot ! 

Pet. Officer, I have occasion for the services of your pris 
oner. Release him. 

Officer. Your majesty's will is absolute. 

Sta. {Aside.) Majesty again ? What does it all mean ? 
A light breaks in upon me. There were rumors in Holland 
when I left, that the Czar had been working in one of the 
ship-yards. Can my Peter be the emperor ? 

Pet. Stanmitz, you have my secret now. 

Sta. And you are 

Pet. The emperor ! Rise, old woman ; your son, Baron 
Stanmitz, is safe ! 

Mrs. S. Baron Stanmitz ! 

Pet. I want him to superintend my ship-yard at St. Peters- 
burg. No words. Prepare, both of you, to leave for the 
new city to-morrow. Baron Stanmitz, make that sweet- 
heart of yours a baroness this very evening, and bring her 
with you. No words. I have business claiming my care, 
or I would stop and see the wedding. Here is a purse of 


sterling's southeen fourth reader. 

ducats. One of my secretaries will call with orders in the 
morning. Farewell. 

Sta. O Peter! Peter! — I mean your majesty! your ma- 
jesty ! — I'm in such a bewilderment ! 

Mrs. S. Down on your knees, Michael ! — I mean Baron 
Stanmitz ! Down on your knees ! 

Sta. What ! to my old friend, Peter — him that I used to 
wrestle with? Excuse me, your majesty — I mean, friend 
Peter — Czar Peter — I can't begin to realize it ! "lis all so 
like things we dream of. 

Pet. Ha ! ha ! Good-by, messmate ! We shall meet again 
in the morning. Commend me to your sweetheart. [Exit.'] 

Sta. Mr. Officer, that court-martial you spoke of isn't 
likely to come off. 

Officer. Baron, I am your very humble servant. I hope, 
Baron, you will speak a good word for me to his majesty 
when opportunity offers. I humbly take my leave of your 
excellency. Anonymous. 


Spell and define — 

Disguise. Arrest. 








Spell and define — 

2. Con-CEp'tion, knowledge. 
5. Ca-pri'ces, whims, humors. 

6. Ex-cur' sions, ramblings. 
8. As-per'i-ties, roughnesses. 


1. In that season of the year, when the serenity of the sky, 
and the various fruits which cover the ground, the discol- 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 227 

ored foliage of the trees, and all the sweet but fading graces 
of inspiring autumn, open the mind to benevolence, and 
dispose it for contemplation, I was wandering in a beauti- 
ful and romantic country, till curiosity began to give way 
to weariness ; and I sat down on the fragment of a rock 
overgrown with moss, where the rustling of the falling 
leaves, the dashing of waters, and the hum of the distant 
city, soothed my mind into a most perfect tranquillity ; 
and sleep insensibly stole upon me, as I was indulging the 
agreeable reveries which the objects around me naturally 

2. I immediately found myself in a vast, extended plain, in 
the middle of which arose a mountain, higher than I had 
before any conception of. It was covered with a multitude 
of people, chiefly youth ; many of whom pressed forward 
with the liveliest expression of ardor in their counte- 
nance, though the way was, in many places, steep and diffi- 

3. I observed those who had but just begun to climb the 
hill thought themselves not far from the top ; but as they 
proceeded, new hills were continually rising to their view ; 
and the summit of the highest they could before discern 
seemed but the foot of another, till the mountain at length 
appeared to lose itself in the clouds. 

4. As I was gazing on these things with astonishment, a 
friendly instructor suddenly appeared. " The mountain be- 
fore thee," said he, "is the Hill of Science. On the top is 
the Temple of Truth, whose head is above the clouds, and 
a veil of pure light covers her face. Observe the progress 
of her votaries ; be silent and attentive." 

5. After I had noticed a variety of objects, I turned my 
eyes toward the multitudes who were climbing the steep 
ascent, and observed amongst them a youth of a lively 
look, a piercing eye, and something fiery and irregular in 
all his motions. His name was Genius. He darted like 
an eagle up the mountain, and he left his companions gaz- 

228 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

ing after him with envy and admiration ; but his progress 
was unequal, and interrupted by a thousand caprices. 

6. When Pleasure warbled in the valley, he mingled in 
her train. When Pride pointed toward the precipice, he 
ventured to the tottering edge. He delighted in devious 
and untried paths, and made so many excursions from the 
road that his feebler companions often outstripped him. I 
observed that the Muses beheld him with partiality ; but 
Truth often frowned, and turned aside her face. 

7. While Genius was thus wasting his strength in eccen- 
tric flights, I saw a person of very different appearance, 
named Application. He crept along with a slow and unre- 
mitting pace, his eyes fixed on the top of the mountain, pa- 
tiently removing every stone that obstructed his way, till 
he saw most of those below him who had at first derided 
his slow and toilsome progress. 

8. Indeed, there were few who ascended the hill with 
equal and uninterrupted steadiness ; for, besides the difficul- 
ties of the way, they were continually solicited to turn 
aside by a numerous crowd of Appetites, Passions, and 
Pleasures, whose importunity, when once complied with, 
they became less and less able to resist ; and though they 
often returned to the path, the asperities of the road were 
more severely felt; the hill appeared more steep and 
rugged; the fruits, which were wholesome and refreshing, 
seemed harsh and ill tasted ; their sight grew dim, and 
their feet tripped at every little obstruction. 

9. I saw, with some surprise, that the Muses, whose bus- 
iness was to cheer and encourage those who were toiling 
up the ascent, would often sing in the bowers of Pleasure, 
and accompany those who were enticed away at the call of 
the Passions. They accompanied them, however, but a lit- 
tle way, and always forsook them when they lost sight of 
the hill. The tyrants then doubled their chains upon the 
unhappy captives, and led them away, without resistance, 
to the cells of Ignorance or to the mansions of Misery. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 229 

10. Amongst the innumerable seducers, who were endea- 
voring to draw away the votaries of Truth from the path of 
Science, there was one, so little formidable in her appear- 
iee, and so gentle and languid in her attempts, that I 
hould scarcely have taken notice of her, but for the num- 
bers she had imperceptibly loaded with her chains. 

11. Indolence, (for so she was called,) far from proceed- 
ig to open hostilities, did not attempt to turn their feet 
ut of the path, but contented herself with retarding their 
rogress ; and the purpose she could not force them to 
bandon she persuaded them to delay. Her touch had a 
ower like that of the torpedo, which withered the strength 
f those who came within its influence. Her unhappy cap- 
ves still turned their faces toward the temple, and always 
oped to arrive there ; but the ground seemed to slide from 
eneath their feet, and they found themselves at the 
ottom before they suspected they had changed their 

12. The placid serenity which at first appeared in their 
mntenance, changed by degrees into a melancholy languor, 
hich was tinged with deeper and deeper gloom, as they 
tided down the stream of Insignificance— a dark and slug- 
ish water, which is curled by no breeze, and enlivened by 
) murmur, till it falls into a dead sea, where startled pas- 
ngers are awakened by the shock, and the next moment 
iried in the gulf of Oblivion. 

13. Of all the unhappy deserters from the paths of Sci- 
Lce none seemed less able to return than the followers of 
dolence. The captives of Appetite and Passion would 
ten seize the moment when their tyrants were languid or 
leep and escape from their enchantment ; but thedomin- 
i of Indolence was constant and unremitted, and seldom 
listed till resistance was in vain. 

14. After contemplating these things, I turned my eyes 
cvard the top of the mountain, where the air was always 
re and exhilarating, the path shaded with laurels and ever- 


sterling's southern fourth reader. 

greens, and the effulgence which beamed from the face of 
Science seemed to shed a glory round her votaries. Happy, 
said I, are they who are permitted to ascend the mountain,! 
But while I was pronouncing this exclamation with uncom- 
mon ardor, I saw, standing beside me, a form of divine* 
features and a more benign radiance. 

15. "Happier," said she, " are they whom Virtue conduct? 
to the mansions of Content." " What," said I, "does Vir- 
tue then reside in the vale ?" " I am found," said she, " ir 
the vale, and I illuminate the mountain. I cheer the cot 
tager at his toil, and inspire the sage at his meditation. I 
mingle in the crowd of cities, and bless the hermit in hiil 
cell. I have a temple in every heart that owns my influ 
ence, and to him who wishes for me I am already present 
Science may raise thee to eminence, but I alone can guidi 
thee to felicity." 

16. While Virtue was thus speaking, I stretched out nr 
arms toward her, with a vehemence which broke my slunj 
ber. The chill dews were falling around me, and the shade 
of evening stretched over the landscape. I hastened homj 
ward, and resigned the night to silence and meditation. 


1. Reveries. 
4. Science. 

6. Devious. 

Spell and define — 

7. Eccentric. 

9. Enticed. 
10. Seducers. 

12. Placid. 
14. Exhilarating. 



Spell and define — 

4. Bletto'ing, mingling together. 7. Mould'er-ing, turning to d| 

5. Co-quette', a vain, trifling girl. wasting away. 

6. Knight'ed, promoted to the Mur'muimno, making a lo 
- rank of knight. continued noise. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 231 


1. Oconee ! in my tranquil slumbers, 

At the silent dead of night, 
Oft I see thy golden waters 

Flashing in the rosy light ; 
And flashing brightly, gushing river, 

On the spirit of my dream, 
As in moments fled for ever, 

When I wandered by thy stream — 

2. A forest lad, a careless rover, 

Rising at the dawn of day — 
With my dog and gun, a hunter 

Shouting o'er the hills away ; 
And ever would my shoeless foot-prints, 

Trace the shortest path to thee ; 
There the plumpest squirrel ever 

Chuckled on the chestnut tree. 

3. And when, at noon, the sun of summer 

Flowed too fiercely from the sky, 
On thy banks were bowers grateful 

To a rover such as I — 
Among the forest branches woven 

By the richly-scented vine, 
Yellow jasmine, honeysuckle, 

And by creeping muscadine. 

4. And there I lay in pleasant slumber, 
And the rushing of thy stream 

Ever made a gentle music, 

Blending softly with my dream— 

My dream of her, who near thy waters 
Grew beneath my loving eye, 

Fairest maid of Georgia's daughters- 
Sweetest flower beneath the sky ! 

232 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

5. With snowy brow and golden ringlets, 

Eyes that beggared heaven's blue, 
Voice as soft as summer streamlets, 

Lips as fresh as morning dew ! 
Although she played me oft the coquette, 

Dealing frowns and glances sly, 
These but made her smiles the dearer 

To a rover such as I. 

6. What if the earth by fairer river 

Nurses more beauteous maid than she — 
He had found a slow believer 

Who had told that tale to me ; 
And sure I am no knighted lover 

Truer faith to lady bore, 
Than the little barefoot rover, 

Dreaming on thy pleasant shore. 

V. The happiest hours of life are vanished ; 
She has vanished with them, too ! 
Other bright-eyed Georgia damsels 

Blossom where my lily grew ; 
And yet the proudest and the sweetest 

To my heart can never seem 
Lovely as the little Peri, 

Mouldering by the murmuring stream ! 

Gen. H. R. Jacksc 

Spell and define — 

1 Pa'geant, show, spectacle. E-ly'si-um, a place assig 

' Ar-ma'da, a fleet of armed ships. happy souls in mythol 

3. Am-a-ran'tuine, never-fading. 9. Lam'bent, gliding over, 

ing lightly. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 233 


. It is but a few years since we beheld the most singular 
[ memorable pageant in the annals of time. It was a 
;eant more sublime and affecting than the progress of 
sabeth through England after the defeat of the armada ; 
11 the return of Francis I. from a Spanish prison to his 
i beautiful France ; than the daring and rapid march 
the conqueror of Austerlitz from Treguier to Paris. It 
\ a pageant indeed, rivalled only in the elements of the 
ad and the pathetic by the journey of our own Wash- 
;on through the different States. Need I say that I al- 
3 to the visit of La Fayette to America ? 
I But La Fayette returned to the land of the dead rather 
i of the living. How many who had fought with him 
he war of '76 had died in arms, and lay buried in the 
ve of the soldier or the sailor ! How many who had 
dved the perils of battle, on the land and the ocean, 
expired on the death-bed of peace, in the arms of moth- 
dster, daughter, wife ! Those who survived to celebrate 
l him the jubilee of 1825, were stricken in years, and 
ry-headed ; many of them infirm in health ; many the 
ims of poverty, or misfortune, or affliction. And how 
arable that patriotic company ! how sublime their 
lering through all the land ! how joyful their welcome ! 
affecting their farewell to that beloved stranger ! 
But the pageant has fled, and the very materials that 
i it such depth of interest are rapidly perishing ; and an 
ble, perhaps a nameless grave shall hold the last soldier 
Le Revolution. And shall they ever meet again ? Shall 
patriots of '76 — the immortal band, as history styles 
— meet again in the amaranthine bowers of spotless 
y, of perfect bliss, of eternal glory ? Shall theirs be 
)hristian's heaven, the kingdom of the Redeemer ? The 
tien points to his fabulous elysium as the paradise of the 

23-i sterling's southern fourth reader. 

soldier and the sage. But the Christian bows down 4 
tears and sighs, for he knows that not many of the patr 
and statesmen and warriors of Christian lands are the 
ciples of Jesus. 

4. But we turn from La Fayette, the favorite of the 
and the new world, to the peaceful benevolence, the un 
bitious achievements of Robert Raikes. Let us ima^ 
him to have been still alive and to have visited our lan< 
celebrate this day with us. No national ships would b 
been oifered to bear him, a nation's guest, from the bri 
shores of the rising to the brighter shores of the setl 
sun. No cannon would have hailed him in the stern 
guage of the battle-field, the fortunate champion of F 
dom, in Europe and America. No martial music wc 
have welcomed him in notes of rapture, as they rolled al 
the Atlantic, and echoed through the valley of the Mi 
sippi. No military procession would have heralded his s 
through crowded streets, thick-set with the banner and 
plume, the glittering sabre and the polished bayonet, 
cities would have called forth beauty and fashion, we? 
and rank, to honor him in the ball-room and theatre. 
States would have escorted him from boundary to bounds 
nor have sent their chief magistrate to do him horns 
No national liberality would have allotted to him a no 
man's domain and a princely treasure. No national gi 
tude would have hailed him in the capitol itself, the nati<i 
guest, because the nation's benefactor ; and have consecra 
a battle-ship in memory of his wounds and his gallantry 

5. Not such would have been the reception of Rol 
Raikes, in the land of the Pilgrims and of Penn, of 
Catholic, the Cavalier, and the Huguenot. And who d 
not rejoice, that it would be impossible thus to welcc 
this primitive Christian, the founder of Sunday-schoc 
His heralds would be the preachers of the Gospel, and 
eminent in piety, benevolence, and zeal. His process 
would number in its ranks the messengers of the Cross i 


disciples of the Saviour, Sunday-school teachers and 
te-robed scholars. The temples of the Most High would 
the scenes of his triumph. Homage and gratitude to 

would be anthems of praise and thanksgiving to God. 

Parents would honor him as more than a brother; 
iren would reverence him as more than a father. The 
iring words of age, the firm and sober voice of man- 
1, the silvery notes of youth, would bless him as a 
Lstian patron. The wise and the good would acknowl- 
3 him everywhere as a 'national benefactor, as a patriot 
i to a land of strangers. He would have come a mes- 
jer of peace to a land of peace. ~No images of camps, 

sieges, and battles ; no agonies of the dying and the 
nded ; no shouts of victory, or processions of triumph, 
Id mingle with the recollections of the multitudes who 
:omed him. They would mourn over no common dan- 
, trials, and calamities ; for the road of duty has been 
lem the path of pleasantness, the way of peace. Their 
tory of the past would be rich in gratitude to God, and 

to man ; their enjoyment of the present would be a 
ide to heavenly bliss; their prospects of the future 
ht and glorious as faith and hope. 

Such was the reception of La Fayette, the warrior; 

would be that of Robert Raikes, the Howard of the 

tian Church. And which is the nobler benefactor, 
ot, and philanthropist? Mankind may admire and 

La Fayette more than the founder of Sunday-schools ; 
religion, philanthropy, and enlightened common-sense 

ever esteem Robert Raikes the superior of La Fayette. 
are the virtues, the services, the sacrifices of a more 
ring and exalted order of being. His counsels and 
lphs belong less to time than to eternity. 

The fame of La Fayette is of this world ; the glory of 

rt Raikes is of the Redeemer's everlasting kingdom. 

ayette lived chiefly for his OAvn age, and chiefly for his 

>ur country. But Robert Raikes has lived for all ages 

236 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

and all countries. Perhaps the historian and biograpl 
may never interweave his name in the tapestry of natio 
or individual renown. But the records of every sin 
church honor him as a patron ; the records of the unrv 
sal church, on earth and in heaven, bless him as a be 


9. The time may come when the name of La Fayette ^ 
be forgotten ; or when the star of his fame, no longer J 
tering in the zenith, shall be seen pale and glimmering 
the verge of the horizon. But the name of Robert Rai 
shall never be forgotten; and the lambent flame of 
glory is that eternal fire which rushed down from hea 
to devour the sacrifice of Elijah. Let mortals then adn 
and imitate La Fayette more than Robert Raikes. But 
just made perfect, and the ministering spirits around 
throne of God, have welcomed him as a fellow-servant 
the same Lord; as a fellow-laborer in the same glori 
cause of man's redemption ; as a co-heir of the same preci 
promises and eternal rewards. Gkimki 

2. Survived. 

3. Amaranthine. 

4. Achievements. 

Spell and define — 


5. Heralds. 

6. Faltering. 

1. Extol. 

8. Tapestry. 

9. Horizon. 


Spell and define — 

Starred, set with stars. 
Marred, defaced, injured. 
LE'rnE, a fabled river, whose 

waters were said to cause for- 


2. Re-pose', peaceful rest, qui 

3. Re-sign', give up, yield. 

4. Re-vealed', made known. 
Vision, something imagine 

be seen. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 237 


know thou art gone to the land of thy rest, 

Then why should my soul be so sad ? 

know thou art gone where the weary are blest 

And the mourner looks up and is glad ; 
^here Love hath put off, in the land of its birth, 

The stain it had gathered in this ; 
aid Hope, the sweet singer that gladdens the earth, 

Lies asleep on the bosom of Bliss. 

know thou art gone where thy forehead is starred 

By the beauty that shone in thy soul ; 
Phere the light of thy loveliness cannot be marred, 

Nor thy spirit flung back from its goal, 
know thou hast drunk of a Lethe that flows 

Through a land where they do not forget ; 
hat sheds over memory only repose, 

And takes away only regret. 

l thy far-away country, wherever it be, 

I believe thou hast visions of mine, 

nd the love that made all things a music to me 

I have not yet learned to resign. 

never look up with a vow to the sky, 

But a light like thy presence is there, 

id I hear a low murmur like thine, in reply 

When I pour out my spirit in prayer. 

id though like a mourner who sits by a tomb, 
I am wrapped in a mantle of care, 
it the grief of my spirit— oh ! call it not gloom— 
h not the dark grief of despair ; 
sorrow revealed, as the stars are by night, 
Far away a bright vision appears, 

238 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

And Hope, like the rainbow, a creature of light, 
Is born, like a rainbow, in tears. 



Spell and define — 

2. Ma-jes'ti-cal, grand, stately. Dirge, song or tnne to ex;- 

5. Fragrant, sweet of smell. grief and mourning. 

Ca'dences, tone, sound. Dow'er, endowment, gift. 


1. Here are the houses of the dead. Here youth 
And age, and manhood stricken in his strength, 
Hold solemn state, and awful silence keep, 
While Earth goes murmuring in her ancient path 3 
And troubled Ocean tosses to and fro 

Upon his mountainous bed impatiently, 

And many stars make worship musical 

In the dim-aisled abyss, and over all 

The Lord of Life in meditation sits 

Beneath the large white dome of Immortality. 

2. Made quiet by the awe, I pause and think 
Among these walks lined with the frequent tombs : 
For it is very wonderful. Afar 

The populous city lifts its tall, bright spires, 
And snowy sails are glancing on the bay, 
As if in merriment : but here all sleep ; 
They sleep, these calm, pale people of the past. 
Spring plants her rosy feet on their dim homes— 
They sleep ! Sweet Summer comes and calls and c: 
With all her passionate poetry of flowers, 
Wed to the music of the soft south wind — 
They sleep ! The lonely Autumn sits and sobs 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 239 

Between the cold white tombs, as if her heart 
Would break-they sleep ! Wild Winter comes and 

Majestical the mournful sagas learned 
jjir in the melancholy North, where God 
Walks forth alone upon the desolate seas— 
rhey slumber still. Sleep on, O passionless dead : 
Te make our world sublime : ye have a power 
^nd majesty the living never hold. 

lere Avarice shall forget his den of gold ! 

lere Lust his beautiful victim, and hot Hate 

lis crouching foe. Ambition here shall lean 

Lgainst Death's shaft, veiling the stern bright eye 

'hat, over-bold, would take the height of gods, 

md know Fame's nothingness. The sire shall'come, 

'he matron and the child, through many years, 

o this fair spot : whether the plumed hearse 

[oves slowly through the winding walks, or Death 

or a brief moment pauses, all shall come 

o feel the touching eloquence of graves. 

nd therefore it was well for us to clothe 

he place with beauty. No dark terror here 

lall chill the generous tropic of the soul; 

it Poetry and her starry comrade Art 

^all make the sacred country of the dead 


te fragrant flowers shall smile 

r er the low, green graves ; the trees shall shake 

eir soul-like cadences upon the tombs ; 

e little lake, set in a paradise 

wood, shall be a mirror to the moon, 

bat time she looks from her imperial tent 

long delight at all below; the sea 

ill lift some stately dirge he loves to breathe 


Over dead nations, while calm sculptures stand 
On every hill, and look like spirits there 
That drink the harmony. Oh, it is well ! 
Why should a darkness scowl on any spot 
Where man grasps immortality ? Light, light, 
And art, and poetry, and eloquence, 
And all that we call glorious, are its dower. 

6. Oh, ye whose mouldering frames were brougnt and pl| 
By pious hands within these flowery slopes 
And gentle hills, where are ye dwelling nqw? 
For man is more than element. The soul 
Lives in the body as the sunbeam lives ^ 
In trees or flowers that were but clay without. 
Then where are ye, lost sunbeams of the mind? 
Are ye where great Orion towers and holds 
Eternity on his stupendous front ? 
Or where pale Neptune in the distant space 
Shows us how far, in His creative mood, 
With pomp of silence, and concentred brows, 
The Almighty walked ? Or haply ye have gone 
Where other matter roundeth into shapes 
Of bright beatitude. Or do ye know 
Aught of dull space or time, and its dark load 
Of aching weariness ? 

■7. They answer not. 

But He whose love created them of old, 
To cheer His solitary realm and reign, 
With love will still remember them. 

William R. Wallac 


Temperance.— Temperance promotes clearness and 
of intellect. If the brain be not in a healthy and vig 
state, equally unhealthy and inefficient must be the 
also. History will bear us out in asserting, that the 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 241 

est and most successful intellectual efforts have ever been 
associated with the practice of those general principles of 
temperance in diet for which we plead. 

It is the mighty minds that have grappled most success- 
fully with the demonstrations of mathematical, intellectual, 
and moral science, that stand highest on the scale of men- 
tal acumen and power ; and it is such minds that have found 
strict temperance essential to success. In order to secure 
the highest intellectual culture, you must " be temperate in 
all things." 


Spell and define — 

1. Brill'ian-CY, splendor, glitter. 2. Pro-pul'sion, urging forward. 
Por-trayed', painted or drawn 6. Squat'ter, one who settles on 
to the life. new land without a title. 


1. It was in the month of October. The autumnal tints 
already decorated the shores of that queen of rivers, the 
Ohio. Every tree was hung with long and flowing festoons 
of different species of vines, many loaded with clustered 
fruits of varied brilliancy, their rich bronzed carmine, ming- 
ling beautifully with the yellow foliage, which now predom- 
inated over the yet green leaves, reflecting more lively 
bints from the clear stream than ever landscape painter 
portrayed or poet imagined. 

2. The days were yet warm. The sun had assumed the 
rich and glowing hue, which at that season produces the 
singular phenomenon called the "Indian Summer." The 
moon had rather passed the meridian of her grandeur. We 
glided down the river, meeting no other ripple of the water 
than that formed by the propulsion of our boat. 

3. Leisurely we moved along, gazing all day on the 
grandeur and beauty of the wild scenery around us. Na- 


242 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

ture in her varied arrangements seems to have felt a par- 
tiality toward this portion of our continent. As the travel- 
ler ascends or descends the Ohio, he cannot help remarking 
that alternately, nearly the whole length of the river, the 
margin on one side is bounded by lofty hills and a rolling 
surface, while on the other, extensive plains of the richest 
alluvial land are seen, as far as the eye can command the 

4. Islands of varied size and form rise here and there 
from the bosom of the water, and the winding course of 
the stream frequently brings you to places where the idea 
of being on a river of great length changes to that of float- 
ing on a lake of moderate extent. Some of these islands 
are of considerable size and value ; while others, small and 
insignificant, seem as if intended for contrast and as serving 
to enhance the general interest of the scenery. 

5. As night came sinking in darkness on the broader 
portions of the river, our minds became affected by strong 
emotions and wandered far beyond the present moments. 
The tinkling of bells told us that the cattle that bore them 
were gently roving from valley to valley in search of food, 
or returning to their distant homes. The hooting of the 
great owl or the muffled noise of its wings as it sailed 
smoothly over the stream were matters of interest to us ; 
so was the sound of the boatman's horn, as it came wind- 
ing more and more softly from afar. 

6. When daylight returned, many songsters burst fortl| 
with echoing notes more and more mellow to the listening 
ear. Here and there the lonely cabin of a squatter struck 
the eye, giving note of commencing civilization. The cross- 
ing of the stream by a deer foretold how soon the hills 
would be covered with snow. John James Audubon. 

Spell and define — 

1. Festoons. 2. Meridian. 4. Enhance. 

Bronzed. 3. Alternately. 5. Muffled. 

Predominated. Margin. 6. Echoing. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 243 

lesson" lxxxi. 

Spell and define — 

.. Let'ters, learning, erudition. 5. Phi-lip'pics, orations of Demos- 
I E-clipsed', obscured, disregarded. thenes against Philip of Mace- 
Lists, field of combat, or strife. don. 


1. The name of Republic is inscribed upon the most im- 
erishable monuments of the species, and it is probable that 
t will continue to be associated, as it has been in all past 
ges, with whatever is heroic in character, and sublime in 
;enius, and elegant and brilliant in the cultivation of the 
rts and letters. 

2. It would not have been difficult to prove that the base 
irelings, who in this age of legitimacy and downfall have 
:> industriously inculcated a contrary doctrine, have been 
ompelled to falsify history and abuse reason. 

3. I might have "called up antiquity from the old schools 
f Greece" to show that these apostles of despotism would 
ave passed at Athens for barbarians and slaves. I might 
ave asked triumphantly, w^hat land had ever been visited 
ith the influences of liberty, that did not flourish like the 
>ring ? What people had ever worshipped at her altars, 
ithout kindling with a loftier spirit and putting forth more 
)ble energies ? Where had she ever acted, that her deeds 
id not been heroic ? Where had she ever spoken, that 
ir eloquence had not been triumphant and sublime ? 

4. It might have been demonstrated that a state of society 
which nothing is obtained by patronage— nothing is yield- 
. to the accidents of birth or fortune ; where those who 
•e already distinguished must exert themselves, lest they 
j speedily eclipsed by their inferiors, and those inferiors 
e by every motive stimulated to exert themselves that 
ey may become distinguished ; and where, the lists being 



open to the whole world, without any partiality or exclu- 
sion, the champion who bears off the prize, must have tasked 
his powers to the very utmost, and proved himself the first 
of a thousand competitors — is necessarily more favorable to 
a bold, and vigorous, and manly way of thinking and acting 
than any other. 

5. I should have asked with Longinus — who but a repub-| 
lican could have uttered the Philippics of Demosthenes ? 
and what has the patronage of despotism ever done to be, 
compared with the spontaneous productions of the Attic, 
the Roman, and the Tuscan muse ? 

Hugh Swinton Legare. 

1. Inscribed. 

2. Legitimacy. 

Spell and define- 

3. Antiquity. 

4. Patronage. 



Spell and define — 

1. In-teg'ri-ty, moral purity, up- 2. Swerve, deviate, depart. 

Tightness. 3. Ln-tre-pid'i-ty, fearlessness, 
Sphere, position in society. boldness. 

Viv'i-fy, animate, enliven. 4. Be-lie', show to be false. 


1. The first great maxim of human conduct, that which it 
is all-important to impress on the understandings of young 
men, and recommend to their hearty adoption, is, above all 
things, in all circumstances, and under every emergency, to 
preserve a clean heart and an honest purpose. Integrity, 
firm, determined integrity, is that quality, which of all 
others raises man to the highest dignity of his nature, ani 


its him to adorn and bless the sphere in which he is ap- 
iointed to move. Without it, neither genius nor learning, 
either the gifts of God, nor human exertions, can avail 
ught for the accomplishment of the great objects of human 
xercise. Integrity is the crowning virtue — integrity is the 
ervading principle which ought to regulate, guide, control, 
nd vivify every impulse, desire, and action. 

2. Honesty is sometimes spoken of as a vulgar virtue ; 
nd perhaps that honesty which barely refrains from out- 
aging the positive rules ordained by society for the pro- 
ection of property, and which ordinarily pays its debts and 
-erforms its engagements, however useful and commendable 

quality, is not to be numbered among the highest efforts 
f human virtue. But that integrity which, however tempt- 
ig the opportunity, or however secure against detection, 

selfishness nor resentment, no lust of power, place, favor, 
irofit, or pleasure, can cause to swerve from the strict rule 
f right, is the perfection of man's moral nature. In this 
ense, the poet was right when he pronounced " an honest 
lan the noblest work of God." 

3. It is almost inconceivable what an erect and indepen- 
ent spirit this high endowment communicates to the man, 
nd what a moral intrepidity and vivifying energy it im- 
arts to his character. There is a family alliance between 
11 the virtues, and perfect integrity is always followed by 

train of goodly qualities, frankness, benevolence, humani- 

1 patriotism, promptness to act, and patience to endure. 
i moments of public need, these indicate the man who is 
orthy of universal confidence. Erected on such a basis, 
nd built up of such materials, fame is enduring. 

4. Such is the fame of our Washington, of the man M in- 
exible to ill and obstinately just." While, therefore x other 
lonuments, intended to perpetuate human greatness, are 
aily mouldering into dust, and belie the proud inscriptions 
hich they bear, the solid granite pyramid of his glory lasts 
om age to age, imperishable, seen afar off, looming high 

246 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

over the vast desert, a mark, a sign, and a wonder, for the 
wayfarers through this pilgrimage of life. 

Hon. William Gaston. 

1. Emergency. 

2. Refrains. 

Spell and define — 

Detection. 4. Perpetuate. 

3. Endowment. Looming. 

Alliance. Wayfarers. 


Spell and define — 

2. Pre-ter-nat'u-ral, beyond or 

different from what is natural. 
Shriv'elled, shrunk into wrin- 

3. Prog-nos'tic, showing some- 

thing to come. 

4. Mys'tic, sacredly obscure, in- 

volving some secret meaning. 

Symbol, a sign or represent* 

tion of something. 
E-nun-ci-a'tiojst, the act of utter 

U'ni-son, agreement, harmony 
5. Dis-tor'tion, a twisting out of 

9. Por-tent'ous, foretelling evil. 


1. As I travelled through the county of Orange, my ey€ 
was caught by a cluster of horses tied near a ruinous ohf 
wooden house in the forest, not far from the roadside. Hav- 
ing frequently seen such objects before, in travelling through! 
these States, I had no difficulty in understanding that this 
was a place of religious worship. 

2. Devotion alone should have stopped me to join in the! 
duties of the congregation ; but I must confess, that curf 
osity to hear the preacher of such a wilderness, was not the 
least of my motives. On entering, I was struck with his 
preternatural appearance. He was a tall and very spare old 
man ; his head, which was covered with a white linen cap,) 
his shrivelled hands, and his voice, were all shaking under 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 247 

the influence of a palsy ; and a few moments ascertained 
to me that he was perfectly blind. 

3. The first emotions that touched my breast were those 
of mingled pity and veneration. But how soon were all 
my feelings changed ! The lips of Plato were never more 
worthy of a prognostic swarm of bees, than were the lips 
of this holy man ! It was a day of the administration of 
the sacrament ; and his subject was, of course, the passion 
of our Saviour. I had heard the subject handled a thou- 
sand times ; I had thought it exhausted long ago. Little 
did I suppose, that, in the wild woods of America, I was to 
meet with a man, whose eloquence would give to this topic 
a new and more sublime pathos than I had ever before 

4. As he descended from the pulpit, to distribute the 
mystic symbols, there was a peculiar, a more than human 
solemnity in his air and manners, which made my blood 
run cold, and my whole frame shiver. He then drew a 
picture of the sufferings of our Saviour ; his trial before Pi- 
late ; his ascent up Calvary ; his crucifixion. I knew the 
whole history ; but never until then, had I heard the cir- 
cumstances so selected, so arranged, so colored. It was all 
new ; and I seemed to have heard it for the first time in my 
life. His enunciation was so deliberate, that his voice 
trembled on every syllable ; and every heart in the assem- 
bly trembled in unison. 

5. His peculiar phrases had that force of description, that 
the original scene appeared to be at that moment acting be- 
fore our eyes. We saw the very faces of the Jews ; the star- 
ing, frightful distortions of malice and rage. We saw the 
buffet ; my soul kindled with a flame of indignation ; and 
my hands were involuntarily and convulsively clinched. 

6. But when he came to touch on the patience, the for- 
giving meekness of our Saviour ; when he drew, to the life, 
his voice breathing to God a soft and gentle prayer of par- 
don on his enemies, "Father, forgive them, for they know 

248 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

not what they do," the voice of the preacher, which had all 
along faltered, grew fainter, until, his utterance being en- 
tirely obstructed by the force of his feelings, he raised his 
handkerchief to his eyes, and burst into a loud and irrepres- 
sible flood of grief. The effect was inconceivable. The 
whole house resounded with the mingled groans, and sobs, 
and shrieks of the congregation. 

7. It was some time before the tumult had subsided, so 
far as to permit him to proceed. Indeed, judging by the 
usual but fallacious standard of our own weakness, I began 
to be very uneasy for the situation of the preacher. For I 
could not conceive how he would be able to let his audience 
down from the height to which he had wound them, without 
impairing the solemnity and dignity of the subject, or per- 
haps shocking them by the abruptness of his fall. But, no : 
the descent was as beautiful and sublime, as the elevation 
had been rapid and enthusiastic. 

8. The first sentence, with which he broke the awful 
silence was a quotation from Rousseau : " Socrates died 
like a philosopher, but Jesus Christ, like a God !" I de- 
spair of giving you any idea of the effect produced by this 
short sentence, unless you could perfectly conceive the 
whole manner of the man, as well as the peculiar crisis in 
the discourse. Never before did I completely understand 
what Demosthenes meant by laying such stress on delivery. 

9. You are to bring before you the venerable figure of 
the preacher ; his blindness, constantly recalling to your 
recollection old Homer, Ossian, and Milton, and associating 
with his performance the melancholy grandeur of their 
geniuses ; you are to imagine that you hear his slow, so- 
lemn, well-accented enunciation, and his voice of affecting, 
trembling melody ; you are to remember the pitch of pas- 
sion and enthusiasm to which the congregation were raised ; 
and then, the few moments of portentous, death-like silence, 
which reigned throughout the house ; the preacher, remov- 
ing his white handkerchief from his aged face, (even yet 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 


wet from the recent torrent of his tears,) and slowly stretch- 
ing forth the palsied hand which held it, begins the sen- 
tence, " Socrates died like a philosopher " — then, pausing, 
raising his other, pressing them both, clasped together, 
with warmth and energy, to his breast, lifting his " sight- 
less balls " to heaven, and pouring his whole soul into his 
tremulous voice — " but Jesus Christ — like a God !" 

10. This man has been before my imagination almost 
ever since. A thousand times, as I rode along, I dropped 
the reins of my bridle, stretched forth my hand, and tried 
to imitate his quotation from Rousseau : a thousand times I 
abandoned the attempt in despair, and felt persuaded that 
his peculiar manner and power arose from an energy of 
soul which nature could give, but which no human being 
could justly copy. As I recall, at this moment, several of 
his awfully striking attitudes, the chilling tide with which 
my blood begins to pour along my arteries, reminds me of 
the emotions produced by the first sight of Gray's intro- 
ductory picture of his Bard. Wirt. 

1. Cluster. 

2. Palsy. 

3. Exhausted. 

4. Distribute. 

Spell and define — 

Crucifixion. 9. Grandeur. 

5. Description. Tremulous. 
Clinched. 10. Quotation. 

6. Utterance. Introductory. 

1. Note, notice. 
5. Knell, the sound of the fu- 
neral bell. 
9. Vekge, the brink, the edge. 
14. Ab'ject, worthless, mean. 
19. Ex'qui-site, nice, complete. 


Spell and define — 

22.', wasted, swallowed 


Fan-tas'tic, fanciful, existing 

only in imagination. 
An'tic, odd, fanciful. 
Sub'tler, more delicate. 

250 sterling's southern fourth reader. 


1. The bell strikes One. We take no note of time 
But from its loss : to give it then a tongue 
Is wise in man. As if an angel spoke 
I feel the solemn sound. If heard aright, 
5. It is the knell of my departed hours. 

Where are they ? With the years beyond the flood. 
It is the signal that demands dispatch. 
How much is to be done ! My hopes and fears 
Start up alarmed, and o'er life's narrow verge 
10. Look down — on what ? A fathomless abyss, 
A dread eternity, how surely mine ! 
And can eternity belong to me, 
Poor pensioner on the bounties of an hour ? 

How poor, how rich, how abject, how august, 
15. How complicate, how wonderful is man ! 

How passing wonder, He who made him such ! 

Who centred in our make such strange extremes 

From different natures marvellously mixed, 

Connection exquisite of distant worlds ! 
20. Distinguished link in being's endless chain ! 

Midway from nothing to the Deity ! 

A beam ethereal, sullied, and absorpt ! 

Though sullied and dishonored, still divine ! 

Dim miniature of greatness absolute ! 
25. An heir of glory ! a frail child of dust ! 

Helpless immortal ! insect infinite ! 

A worm ! a god ! — I tremble at myself, 

And in myself am lost. At home a stranger, 

Thought wanders up and down, surprised, aghast, 
30. And wondering at her own. How reason reels ! 

Oh, what a miracle to man is man ! 

Triumphantly distressed ! what joy ! what dread ! 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 


Alternately transported and alarmed ; 
What can preserve my life ! or what destroy ! 
35. An angel's arm can't snatch me from the grave ; 
Legions of angels can't confine me there. 

'Tis past conjecture ; all things rise in proof. 
While o'er my limbs Sleep's soft dominion spread, 
What though my soul fantastic measures trod 

40. O'er fairy fields, or mourned along the gloom 
Of pathless woods, or down the craggy steep 
Hurled headlong, swam with pain the mantled pool 
Or scaled the cliff, or danced on hollow winds 
With antic shapes, wild natives of the brain ! 

45. Her ceaseless flight, though devious, speaks her nature 
Of subtler essence than the trodden clod ; 
Active, aerial, towering, unconfined, 
Unfettered with her gross companion's fall. 
Even silent night proclaims my soul immortal, 

50. Even silent night proclaims eternal day. 

For human weal Heaven husbands all events : 
Dull sleep instructs, nor sports vain dreams in vain. 


1. Dispatch. 

9. Alarmed. 
10. Abyss. 
13. Pensioner. 
17. Centred. 

Spell and define — 

18. Marvellously. 
24. Miniature. 
29. Aghast. 
36. Legions. 
41. Craggy. 

44. Antic. 

45. Devious. 

47. Aerial. 

48. Gross. 

49. Proclaims. 


Spell and define — 

1. Ver'nal, belonging to spring. 
Clos'es, pauses, intermissions. 

2. A'denn, Eden, Paradise. 
4. E-van'gels, the gospels. 

252 sterling's southern fourth reader. 


1. The laughing Hours before her feet, 

Are strewing vernal roses, 
And the voices in her soul are sweet, 

As music's mellowed closes, 
All hopes and passions heavenly-born, 

In her have met together, 
And joy diffuses round her morn 

A mist of golden weather. 

2. As o'er her cheek of delicate dyes 

The blooms of childhood hover, 
So do the tranced and sinless eyes 

All childhood's heart discover, 
Full of a dreamy happiness, 

With rainbow fancies laden, 
Whose arch of promise glows to bless 

Her Spirit's beauteous Adenn. 

3. She is a being born to raise 

Those undefiled emotions, 
That link us with our sunniest days 

And most sincere devotions ; 
In her we see renewed, and bright, 

That phase of earthly story, 
Which glimmers in the morning light 

Of God's exceeding glory. 

4. Why, in a life of mortal cares, 

Appear these heavenly faces, 
Why on the verge of darkened years, 

These amaranthine graces ? 
5 Tis but to cheer the soul that faints, 

With pure and blest evangels, 
To prove if heaven is rich with saints, 

That earth may have her angels. 

sterling's southern foueth reader. 253 

5. Enough ! 'tis not for me to pray 
That on her life's sweet river, 
The calmness of a virgin day- 
May rest, and rest for ever ; 
I know a guardian Genius stands 

Beside those waters lowly, 
And labors with immortal hands 
To keep them pure and holy. 

Paul H. Hayne. 

Spell and define — 

1. Diffuses. 3. Undefiled. 5. Enough. 

2. Dyes. Phase. Virgin. 


Spell and define — 

2. O'ri-ent, the east. 10. Qtjiv'er, tremble. 

3. Erst, before, hitherto. 12. Helms'men, pilots, steersmen. 

4. Port'als, gates, doors. Shiv'er, break in pieces. 
6. Ga'la, festive, joyous. 13. Her-al'dic, announcing. 


1. One night, while lowly shepherd swains 
Their fleecy charge attended, 

A light burst o'er Judea's plains, 
Unutterably splendid. 

2. Far in the dusky orient, 
A star unknown in story 

Arose to flood the firmament 
With more than morning glory. 

3. The clustering constellations, erst 
So gloriously gleaming, 

254 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Waned, when its sudden splendor burst 
Upon their paler beaming. 

4. And Heaven drew nearer Earth that night— 

Flung wide its pearly portals — 
Sent forth from all its realms of light 
Its radiant immortals : 

5. They hovered in the golden air, 

Their golden censers swinging, 
And woke the drowsy shepherds there 
With their seraphic singing. 

6. Yet Earth on this her gala night 

No jubilee was keeping ; 
She lay, unconscious of the light, 
In silent beauty sleeping. 

7. No more shall brightest cherubim 

And stateliest archangels 
Symphonious sing such choral hymn — 
Proclaim so sweet evangels : 

8. No more appear that star at eve, 

Though glimpses of its glory 

Are seen by those who still believe 

The shepherds' simple story : 

9. In Faith's clear firmament afar — 

To Unbelief a stranger — 
For ever glows the golden star 
That stood above the manger. 

10. Age after age may roll away, 
But on Time's rapid river 
The light of its celestial ray 
Shall never cease to quiver. 



11. Frail barges on the swelling tide 

Are drifting with the ages ; 
The skies grow dark — around each bark 
A howling tempest rages ! 

12. Pale with affright, lost helmsmen steer, 

While creaking timbers shiver ; 
The breakers roar — Grim Death is near — 
Oh, who may now deliver ! 

13. Light — light from the Heraldic Star 

Breaks brightly o'er the billow ; 
The storm, rebuked, is fled afar; 
The pilgrim seeks his pillow. 

14. Lost, lost indeed, his heart must be — 

His way how dark with danger, 
Whose hooded eye may never see 
The Star above the manger ! 

Theo. H. Hill. 
Spell and define — 

1. Swains. 5. Censers. Choral. 

2. Firmament. Seraphic. 8. Glimpses. 

3. Constellations. 6. Jubilee. 9. Manger. 
Waned. 1. Symphonious. 14. Hooded. 


JSpell and define — 
that which is be- Fledg'ling, a young bird. 

Rec-og-ni'tion, acknowledgment 
of acquaintance. 

Pre-con-cert'ed, planned before- 

Cai'ttff, a mean villain. 

Thral'dom, bondage, slavery. 

Scan, to examine closely. 

Neth'er, lower, lying beneath. 


coming or graceful. 
Port, manner of movement or 

At-tire', dress, clothes. 
Rife, prevalent. 
Tar'nish, to soil, to dirty. 
Av-a-lanche', a vast body of snow 

sliding down from a mountain. 

256 sterling's southern fourth reader. 


The events here referred to occurred 1307. Switzerland had been 
conquered by Austria ; and Gesler, one of the basest and most tyran- 
nical of men, was her governor, As a refinement of tyranny, he had 
his cap elevated on a pole, and commanded that every one should bow 
before it. William Tell proudly refused to submit to this degrading 
mark of slavery. He was arrested and carried before the governor. 
The day before, his son Albert, without the knowledge of his father, 
had fallen into the hands of Gesler. 

Scene I.— A Chamber in the Castle. Miter Gesler, Officers, 
and Sarnem, with Tell in chains and guarded. 

Sar. Down, slave ! Behold the governor. 
Down ! down ! and beg for mercy. 

Ges. {Seated) Does he hear ? 

Sar. He does, but braves thy power. 

Officer. Why don't you smite him for that look ? 

Ges. Can I believe 

My eyes? He smiles! Nay, grasps 

His chains as he would make a weapon of them 

To lay the smiter dead. {To Tell.) 

Why speakest thou not ? 

Tell. For wonder. 

Ges. Wonder? 

Tell. Yes, that thou shouldest seem a man. 

Ges. What should I seem ? 

Tell. A monster. 

Ges. Ha ! Beware ! Think on thy chains. 

Tell. Though they were doubled, and did weigh me 
Prostrate to earth, methinks I could rise up 
Erect, with nothing but the honest pride 
Of telling thee, usurper, to thy teeth, 
Thou art a monster ! Think upon my chains ? 
How came they on me ? 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 257 

Ges. Darest thou question me ? 
Tell. Darest thou not answer ? 
Ges. Do I hear ? 
Tell. Thou dost. 
Ges. Beware my vengeance. 
Tell. Can it more than kill ? 
Ges. Enough ; it can do that. 
Tell. No ; not enough : 

It cannot take away the grace of life ; 

Its comeliness of lobk that virtue gives ; 

Its port erect with consciousness of truth ; 

Its rich attire of honorable deeds ; 

Its fair report that's rife on good men's tongues ; 

It cannot lay its hands on these, no more 

Than it can pluck the brightness from the sun, 

Or with polluted finger tarnish it. 
Ges. But it can make thee writhe. 
Tell. It may. 
Ges. And groan. 
Tell. It may ; and I may cry, 

Go on, though it should make me groan again. 
Ges. Whence comest thou ? 
Tell. From the mountains. Wouldst thou learn 

What news from them ? 
Ges. Canst tell me any ? 
Tell. Ay : they watch no more the avalanche. 
Ges. Why so? 
Tell. Because they look for thee. The hurricane 

Comes unawares upon them ; from its bed 

The torrent breaks and finds them in its track. 
Ges. What do they then ? 
Tell. Thank heaven, it is not thou ! 

Thou hast perverted nature in them. 

There's not a blessing heaven vouchsafes them, but 

The thought of thee — doth wither to a curse. 
Ges. That's right ! I'd have them like their hills, 

258 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

That never smile, though wanton summer tempt 

Them e'er so much. 
Tell. But they do sometimes smile. 
Ges. Ay ! when is that ? 
Tell. When they do talk of vengeance. 
Ges. Vengeance ? Dare they talk of that ? 
Tell. Ay, and expect it too. 
Ges. From whence? 
Tell. From heaven ! 
Ges. From heaven? 
Tell. And their true hands 

Are lifted up to it on every hill 

For justice on thee. 
Ges. Where's thy abode ? 
Tell. I told thee on the mountains. 
Ges. Art married ? 
Tell. Yes. 

Ges. And hast a family ? 
Tell. A son. 
Ges. A son ? Sarnem ! 
Sar. My lord, the boy— (Gesler signs to Sarnem to7cee$ 

silence, and, whispering, sends him off.) 
Tell. The boy ? What boy ? 

Is't mine ? and have they netted my young fledg 
ling ? [me, 

Now heaven support me, if they have ! He'll owe 

And share his father's ruin ! But a look 

Would put him on his guard ; yet how to give it! 

Now, heart, thy nerve ; forget thou art flesh, be rock, 

They come, they come ! 

That step — that step — that little step, so light 

Upon the ground, how heavy does it fall 

Upon my heart ! I feel my child ! (Enter Sarnem 
with Albert, whose eyes are riveted on TelVs bow % 
which Sarnem carries!) 

'Tis he ! We can but perish. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 259 

Sar. See ! 

Alb. What? 

Sar. Look there ! 

Alb. I do, what would you have me see ? 

Sar. Thy father. 

Alb. Who? That— that my father ? 

Tell. My boy ! my boy ! my own brave boy ! 

He's safe ! {Aside.) 
Sar. {Aside to Gesler.) They're like each other. 
Ges. Yet I see no sign 

Or recognition to betray the link 

Unites a father and his child. 
Sar. My lord, 

I am sure it is his father. Look at them. 

It may be 

A preconcerted thing 'gainst such a chance. 

That they survey each other coldly thus. 
Ges. We shall try. Lead forth the caitiff. 
Sar. To a dungeon ? 
Ges. No ; into the court. 
Sar. The court, my lord ? 
Ges. And send 

To tell the headsman to make ready. Quick ! 

The slave shall die ! You marked the boy ? 
Sar. I did. He started ; 'tis his father. 
Ges. We shall see. Away with him ! 
Tell. Stop! stop! 
Ges. What would you ? . 

Tell Time ! A little time to call my thoughts to- 
Ges. Thou shalt not have a minute. 
Tell. Some one, then, to speak with. 
Ges. Hence with him ! 
Tell A moment ! Stop ! 

Let me speak to the boy. 
Ges. Is he thy son ? 

260 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Tell. And if 

He were, art thou so lost to nature, as 
To send me forth to die before his face ? 

Ges. Well ! speak with him. 

Now, Sarnem, mark them well. 

Tell. Thou dost not know me, boy ; and well for thee 
Thou dost not. I'm the father of a son 
About thy age. Thou, 
I see, wast born, like him, upon the hills ; 
If thou should'st 'scape thy present thraldom, he 
May chance to cross thee ; if he should, I pray thee 
Relate to him what has been passing here. 
And say I laid my hand upon thy head, 
And said to thee, if he were here, as thou art, 
Thus would I bless him. Mayest thou live, my 

To see thy country free, or die for her, 
As I do ! (Albert weeps.) 

Sar. Mark ! he weeps. 

Tell. Were he my son, 

He would not shed a tear ! He would remember 
The cliff where he was bred, and learned to scan 
A thousand fathoms' depth of nether air ; 
Where he was trained to hear the thunder talk, 
And meet the lightning eye to eye ; where last 
We spoke together, when I told him death 
Bestowed the brightest gem that graces life, 
Embraced for virtue's sake. He shed a tear ? 
Now were he by, I'd talk to him, and his cheek 
Should never blanch, nor moisture dim his eye— 
I'd talk to him — 

Sar. He falters ! 

Tell. 'Tis too much ! 

And yet it must be done ! I'd talk to him— 

Ges. Of what ? 

Tell. The mother, tyrant, thou dost make 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 261 

A widow of ! I'd talk to him of her. 

I'd bid him tell her, next to liberty, 

Her name was the last word my lips pronounced. 

And I would charge him never to forget 

To love and cherish her, as he would have 

His father's dying blessing rest upon him ! 
Sar. You see, as he doth prompt, the other acts. 
Tell. So well he bears it, he doth vanquish me. 

My boy ! my .boy ! Oh, for the hills, the hills, 

To see him bound along their tops again, 

With liberty ! 
jSar. Was there not all the father in that look ? 
Ges. Yet 'tis 'gainst nature. 
JSar. Not if he believes 

To own the son would be to make him share 

The father's death. 
Ges. I did not think of that ! 'Tis well 

The boy is not thy son. I've destined him 

To die along with thee. 
Tell To die ? For what ? 
Ges. For having braved my power, as thou hast. Lead 

Them forth. 
Tell. He's but a child. 
Ges. Away with them ! 
Tell. Perhaps an only child. 
Ges. No matter. 
Tell. He may have a mother. 
Ges. So the viper hath ; 

And yet, who spares it for the mother's sake ? 
Tell. I talk to stone ! I talk to it as though 

'Twere flesh ; and know 'tis none. I'll talk to it 

No more. Come, my boy, 

I taught thee how to live, I'll show thee how to die. 
Ges. He is thy child ? 
Tell. He is my child. 
Ges. I've wrung a tear from him ! Thy name ? 

262 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Tell My name? 

It matters not to keep it from thee now ; 
My name is Tell. 
Ges. Tell ? William Tell ? 
Tell. The same. 

Ges. What ! he, so famed 'bove all his countrymen 
For guiding o'er the stormy lake the boat ° 
And such a master of his bow, 'tis said 
His arrows never miss ! Indeed ! I'll take 
Exquisite vengeance ! Mark ! I'll spare thy life, 
Thy boy's too ; both of you are free ; on one 
Tell. Name it. 
Ges. I would see you make 

A trial of your skill with that same bow 
You shoot so well with. 
Tell. Name the trial you 

Would have me make. 
Ges. You look upon your boy 

As though instinctively you guessed it. 
Tell. Look upon my boy ? What mean you ? Look upon 
My boy as though I guessed it ? Guessed the trial 
You'd have me make ? Guessed it 
Instinctively. You do not mean — no — no — 
You would not have me make a trial of 
My skill upon my child ! Impossible ! 
I do not guess your meaning. 
Ges. I would see 

Thee hit an apple at the distance of 
A hundred paces. 
Tell. Is my boy to hold it ? 
Ges. No. 

Tell. No ? I'll send the arrow through the core ! 
Ges. It is to rest upon his head. 
Tell. Great Heaven, you hear him ! 
Ges. Thou dost hear the choice I give : 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 263 

Such trial of the skill thou art master of, 
Or death to both of you ; not otherwise 
To be escaped. 

Tell. O monster ! 

Ges. Wilt thou do it ? 

Alb. He will ! he will ! 

Tell. Ferocious monster ! Make 

A father murder his own child ? 

Ges. Take off 

His chains, if he consent. 

Tell, With his own hand ? 

Ges. Does he consent ? 

Alb. He does. ( Gesler signs to his officers, who proceed 
to take off TelVs chains ; Tell unconscious what 
they do.) 

Tell. With his own hand ? 

Murder his child with his own hand ? This hand, 
The hand I've led him, when an infant, by ? 
Tis beyond horror ! 'tis most horrible ! 
Amazement ! (His chains fall off.) What's that 

you've done to me ? 
Villains ! put on my chains again. My hands 
Are free from blood, and have no gust for it, 
That they should drink my child's ! Here ! here ! 

I'll not 
Murder my boy for Gesler. 

Alb. Father! father! 

You will not hit me, father ! 

Tell. Hit thee? Send 

The arrow through thy brain ? Or, missing that, 
Shoot out an eye ? Or, if thine eye escape, 
Mangle the cheek I've seen thy mother's lips 
Cover with kisses ? Hit thee ? Hit a hair 
Of thee, and cleave thy mother's heart ? 

Ges. Dost thou consent ? 

Tell. Give me my bow and quiver. 

264: sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Ges. For what ? 

Tell. To shoot my boy ! 

Alb. No, father, no ! 

To save me ! You'll be sure to hit the apple. 

Will you not save me, father ? 
Tell. Lead me forth, 

I'll make the trial ! 
Alb. Thank you ! 
Tell. Thank me ? Do 

You know for what ? I will not make the trial ! 

Take him to his mother in my arms, 

And lay him down a corpse before her. 
Ges. Then he dies this moment, and you certainly 

Do murder him whose life you have a chance 

To save, and will not use it. 
Tell. Well, I'll do it ; I'll make the trial. 
Alb. Father ! 
Tell. Speak not to me : 

Let me not hear thy voice ; thou must be dumb ; ;| 

And so should all things be. Earth should be 
dumb ; 

And heaven — unless its thunders muttered at 

The deed, and sent a bolt to stop it ! Give me 

My bow and quiver ! 
Ges. When all's ready. 
Tell. Well, lead on ! 

Spell and define — 

Prostrate. Unawares. Cherish. 

Usurper. Perverted. Vanquish. 

Vengeance. Wanton. Destined. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 265 

lesson lxxxviii. 

Spell and define — 

Is'sue, event, consequence. Shaft, the stem, the body. 

Stanch, sound, strong. Quiv'ek, a case for arrows. 

Jagged, notched, uneven. Peril, danger. 

william tell. — ( Continued.) 

Scene II. — Enter slowly ,people in evident distress — Officers, 
Sarnem, Gesler, Tell, Albert, and soldiers — one bearing 
TelVs bow and quiver — another with a basket of apples. 

Ges. That is your ground- Now shall they measure 

A hundred paces. Take the distance. 
Tell. Is the line a true one ? 
Ges. True or not, what is 't to thee ? 
Tell What is 't to me ? A little thing, 

A very little thing ; a yard or two 

Is nothing here or there— -were it a wolf 

I shot at ! Never mind. 
Ges. Be thankful, slave, 

Our grace accords thee life on any terms. 
Tell. I will be thankful, Gesler. Villain, stop ! 

You measure to the sun. 
Ges. And what of that ? 

What matter whether to or from the sun ? 
Tell. I'd have it at my back. The sun should shine 

Upon the mark, and not on him that shoots. 

I cannot see to shoot against the sun : 

I will not shoot against the sun ! 
Ges. Give him his way ! Thou hast cause to bless my 

Tell. I shall remember it. I'd like to see 

The apple I'm to shoot at. 
Ges. Stay.! show me the basket ! there ! 


266 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Tell. You've picked the smallest one. 

Ges. I know I have. 

Tell. Oh, do you ? But you see 

The color of 't is dark ; I'd have it light. 
To see it better. 

Ges. Take it as it is ; 

Thy skill will be the greater if thou hitt'st it. 

Tell. True ! true ! I did not think of that ; I wonder 
I did not think of that ! Give me some chance 
To save my boy! {Throws away the apple with 

all his force.) 
I will not murder him, 
If I can help it ; for the honor of 
The form thou wearest, if all the heart is gone. 

Ges. Well, choose thyself. 

Tell. Have I a friend among the lookers on ? 
Verner. {Hushing forward.) Here, Tell ! 

Tell. I thank thee, Verner ! 

He is a friend runs out into a storm 
To shake a hand with us. I must be brief. 
When once the bow is bent, we cannot take 
The shot too soon. Verner, whatever be 
The issue of this hour, the common cause 
Must not stand still. Let not to-morrow's sun 
Set on the tyrant's banner ! Verner ! Verner ! 
The boy ! the boy I Thinkest thou he hath the 

To stand it ? 

Ver. Yes. 

Tell. Does he tremble ? 

Ver. ISTo. 

Tell. Art sure ? 

Ver. I am. 

Tell. How looks he? 

Ver. Clear and smilingly. 

If you doubt it, look yourself. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 267 

Tell. No, no, my friend : 
To hear it is enough. 

Ver. He bears himself so much above his years 

Tell. I know ! I know ! 

Ver. With constancy so modest 

Tell. I was sure he would 

Ver. And looks with such relying love 
And reverence upon you 

Tell. Man ! man ! man ! 

No more ! Already I'm too much the father 
To act the man ! Verner, no more, my friend ! 
I would be flint— flint— flint ! Don't make me feel 
I'm not — do not mind me ! Take the boy 
And set him, Verner, with his back to me. 
Set him upon his knees, and place this apple 
Upon his head, so that the stem jnay front me— 
Thus, Verner ; charge him to keep steady ; tell 

I'll hit the apple ! Verner, do all this 
More briefly than I tell it thee. 

Ver. Come, Albert ! (Leading him out.) 

Alb. May I not speak with him before I go ! 

Ver. No. 

Alb. I would only kiss his hand. 

Ver. You must not. 

Alb. I must ; I cannot go from him without. 
Ver. It is his will you should. 

Alb. His will, is it ? 

I am content then ; come. 

Tell. My boy ! (Holding out his arms to him.) 

Alb. My father ! (Bushing into TelVs arms.) 

Tell. If thou canst bear it, should not I ? Go now, 
My son ; and keep in mind that I can shoot ; 
Go, boy ; be thou but steady, I will hit 
The apple. Go ! God bless thee ; go. My bow ! 
(The bow is handed to him.) 

268 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Thou wilt not fail thy master, wilt thou ? Thou 

Hast never failed him yet, old servant. No, 

I'm sure of thee. I know thy honesty, 

Thou art stanch, stanch. Let me see my quiver. 

Ges. Give him a single arrow. 

Tell. Do you shoot ? 

Soldier. I do. 

Tell. Is it so you pick an arrow, friend ? 

The point, you see, is bent ; the feather, jagged. 
That's all the use 'tis fit for. {Breaks it.) 

Ges. Let him have another. 

Tell. Why, 'tis better than the first, 

But yet not good enough for such an aim 

As I'm to take. 'Tis heavy in the shaft ; 

I'll not shoot with it! (Throws it away.) Let me 

see my quiver. 
Bring it ! 'Tis not one arrow in a dozen 
I'd take to shoot with at a dove, much less 
A dove like that. 

Ges. It matters not. 

Show him the quiver. 

Tell. See if the boy is ready. (Tell here hides an arrow 
under his vest.) 

Ver. He is. 

Tell. I'm ready, too ! Keep silent, for 

Heaven's sake, and do not stir ; and let me have 
Your prayers, your prayers, and be my witness 
That if his life's in peril from my hand, 
'Tis only for the chance of saving it. (To the people.) 

Ges. Go on. 

Tell. I will. 

O friends, for mercy's sake keep motionless, 
And silent. ( Tell shoots. A shout of exultation bursts 
from the crowd. TeWs head drops on his bosom ; 
he with difficulty supports himself on his bow.) 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 269 

Ver. (Hushing in with Albert,) The boy is safe, no hair 

of him is touched. 
Alb. Father, I'm safe. Your Albert's safe, dear father ; 

Speak to me ! Speak to me ! 
Ver. He cannot, boy ! 
Alb. You grant him life ? 
Ges. I do. 

Alb. And we are free ? 
Ges. You are. ( Crossing angrily behind.) 
Ver. Open his vest, 

And give him air. (Albert opens his father's vest and 

the arrow drops. Tell starts, fixes his eyes on Albert, 

and clasps him to his breast.) 
Tell. My boy ! My boy ! 
Ges. For what 

Hid you that arrow in your breast ? Speak, slave ! • 
Tell. To kill thee, tyrant, had I slain my boy ! 


Spell and define — 

Accords. Courage. Briefly. 

Brief. Constancy. Witnesses. 

Tyrant. Reverence. Motionless. 


Spell and define — 

1 Haze, fog, mist 4. Can'vas, here, for paintings. 

3. Beak'er, a dxinking-glass. 5. Rime, the frost. 


1. As within the old mansion the holiday throng reassem- 
bles in beauty and grace, 
And some eye looking out of the window, by chance, 
these memorial records may trace — 

270 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

How the past, like a swift-coming haze from the sea, in 

an instant surrounds us once more, 
While the shadowy figures of those we have loved, all 

distinctly are seen on the shore ! 

2. Through the vista of years, stretching dimly away, we 

but look, and a vision behold — 
Like some magical picture the sunset reveals with its 

colors of crimson and gold — 
All suffused with the glow of the hearth's ruddy blaze, 

from beneath the gay " mistletoe bough," 
There are faces that break into smiles as divinely as any 

that beam on us now. 

3. While the Old Year departing strides ghost-like along 

o'er the hills that are dark with the storm, 
To the New the brave beaker is filled to the brim, and 

the play of affection is warm : 
Look once more— as the garlanded Spring reappears, in 

her footsteps we welcome a train 
Of fair women, whose eyes are as bright as the gem that 

has cut their dear names on the pane. 

4. From the canvas of Vandyke and Kneller that hangs on 

the old-fashioned wainscoted wall, 
Stately ladies, the favored of poets, look down on the 

guests and the revel and all ; 
But their beauty, though wedded to eloquent verse, and 

though rendered immortal by Art, 
Yet outshines not the beauty that breathing below, in a 

moment takes captive the heart. 

5. Many winters have since frosted over these panes with 

the tracery-work of the rime, 
Many Aprils have brought back the birds to the lawn 
from some far-away tropical clime — 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 271 

But the guests of the season, alas ! where are they ? 

Some the shores of the stranger have trod, 
And some names have been long ago carved on the stone, 

where they sweetly rest under the sod. 

8. ; How uncertain the record ! the hand of a child, in its 

innocent sport, unawares, 
May, at any time, lucklessly shatter the pane, and thus 

cancel the story it bears : 
Still a portion, at least,, shall uninjured remain— unto 

trustier tablets consigned — 
The fond names that survive in the memory of friends 

who yet linger a season behind. 

1. Recollect, O young soul, with ambition inspired !— let 

the moral be read as we pass — 
Recollect the illusory tablets of fame have been ever as 

brittle as glass : 
Oh, then be not content with the name there inscribed 

— for as well may you trace it in dust — 

But resolve to record it where long it shall stand, in the 

hearts of the good and the just ! 

John Thompson. 

1. Memorial. 

2. Vista. 

Spell and define — 

Ruddy. 5. Tracery. 

4. Wainscoted. 6. Cancel. 

Revel. V. Illusory. 

lesson xc. 

Spell and define — 

1. Mel'low, soft to the ear. 

4. Ca-reeh'ing, running rapidly 

6. Lave, bathe, wash. 

Lim'pid, clear, pure, transparent 

7. Celt, one of the early inhab- 
itants of the south of Eu- 
Sax' on, one of the nations of 
Northern Germany, 



1. Swannanoa, nymph of beauty, 

I would woo thee in my rhyme, 
Wildest, brightest, loveliest river 

Of our sunny southern clime ! 
Swannanoa, well they named thee, 

In the mellow Indian tongue ; 
Beautiful* thou art, most truly, 

And right worthy to be sung. 

2. I have stood by many a river, 

Known to story and to song — 
Ashley, Hudson, Susquehanna, 

Fame to which may well belong ; 
I have camped by the Ohio, 

Trod Scioto's fertile banks, 
Followed far the Juniata, 

In the wildest of her pranks. 

3. But thou reignest queen for ever, 

Child of Apalachian hills, 
Winning tribute as thou flowest, 

From a thousand mountain-rills. 
Thine is beauty, strength-begotten, 

'Mid the cloud-begirded peaks, 
Where the patriarch of the mountains,! 

Heavenward for thy waters seeks. 

4. Through the laurels and the beeches, 

Bright thy silvery current shines, 
Sleeping now in granite basins, 
Overhung by trailing vines, 

Swannanoa, in the Cherokee, signifies beautiful. 
f Black Mountain. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 273 

And anon careering onward, 

In the maddest frolic-mood, 
Waking, with its sea-like voices, 

Fairy echoes in the wood. 

5. Peaceful sleep thy narrow valleys 

In the shadow of the hills, 
And thy flower-enameled border 

All the air with fragrance fills. 
Wild luxuriance, generous tillage, 

Here alternate meet the view, 
Every turn, through all thy windings, 

Still revealing something new. 

6. Where, O graceful Swannanoa, 

Are the warriors who of old 
Sought thee at thy mountain sources, 

Where thy springs are icy cold — 
Where the dark-browed Indian maidens, 

Who their limbs were wont to lave 
(Worthy bath for fairer beauty) 

In thy cool and limpid wave ? 

V. Gone for ever from thy borders, 
But immortal in thy name, 
Are the red men of the forest ! 

Be thou keeper of their fame ! 
Paler races dwell beside thee ; 

Celt and Saxon till thy lands, 
Wedding use unto thy beauty — 
Linking over thee their bands. 

Asheville News. 

Spell and define — 

1. Nymph. 3. Patriarch. Fragrance. 
Clime. 4. Trailing. Alternate. 

2. Pranks. 5. Tillage. Windings. 

274 sterling's southern fourth reader. 


Spell and defi?ie — 

1. Bub'nished, polished, made 7. Sul'lied, soiled, stained. 

glossy. 8. Ca-rous'al, noisy festival. 

2. Expanse', wide extent. 9. Eife, full of. 

5. Quays, wharfe, 10. Dis-en-tombed', taken from 

6. Ten'ant-ed, inhabited. the grave. 


1. I looked down from the brink of the deep crater's 
mouth into the black and fiery bosom of Vesuvius, where 
the raging flames, old as time itself, have maddened into 
fury and awful storms of molten anger, burying fair cities 
deep beneath their glowing wrath. What a scene! I 
turned from it, and cast my eyes upon the fair blue waters, 
so sweetly spread at the mountain's base, like the smooth 
surface of a burnished shield. 

2. It was a lovely day in spring, when the flowers were 
young and bursting into blossom, diffusing their perfume 
over the vine-clad hills. The bay of Naples reposed in 
beauty. There was no breeze to curl its surface, and the 
warm sun smiled gently upon it. Oh, how bright the pros- 
pect over its blue expanse ! The city, too, was glorious in 
the thin, ethereal vapor, lightly tinging the swelling domes 
and lofty spires of sunny Naples. 

3. I came down from the mountain, and entered the bur- 
ied cities of the plains, Pompeii and Herculaneum. These 
once gay cities were long buried beneath the red crackling 
fires of the volcano's wrath. How little do we know of 
those beings who gayly trod the well-worn pavements of a 
city then thronged with inhabitants, but now silent and 
deserted ! They have gone, and myriads before them, too, 
have stepped into the great crater of eternity. 

4. Those cities have slept beneath the black cinders of 
Vesuvius's fires for many centuries, and now they open their 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 275 

>onderous gates and sealed treasures to the world's aston- 
shed gaze. And lo ! a voice from Italy ! Incomes like 
he stirring of the breeze upon the mountains; it floats in 
najesty like the echo of the thunder ; it breathes solemnity • 
ike a sound from the tombs. Let the nations hearken ! 
or the slumber of ages is broken, and the buried voice of 
mtiquity speaks again from the gray ruins of Pompeii. 

5. Roll "back the tide of eighteen hundred years ! At the 
bot of the vine-clad Vesuvius stands a royal city; the 
lately Roman walks its lordly streets, or banquets in the 
places of its splendor. The bustle of busied thousands is 
:here ; you may hear it along the thronged quays ; it rises 
Tom the amphitheatre and the forum. It is the home of 
.uxury, of gayety, and of joy. It is a careless, a dreaming, 
% devoted city. There is a blackness in the horizon, and 
the earthquake is rioting in the bowels of the mountain. 

6. Hark! a roar, a crash; and the very foundations of 
the eternal hills are belched forth in a sea of fire. Woe to 
that fated city! The torrent comes surging like the mad 
ocean. It boils above wall and tower, palace and fountain, 
and Pompeii is a city of tombs. Ages roll on; silence, 
darkness, and desolation are in the halls of buried gran- 
deur. The forum is voiceless, and the pompous mansions 
are tenanted by skeletons. Other generations live above 
the dust of long lost glory, and the slumber of the dream- 
less city is forgotten. 

7. Pompeii beholds a resurrection! She hath shaken 
from her beauty the ashes of centuries, and once more looks 
forth upon the world, sullied and sombre, but interesting 
still. Again upon her arches* her courts and her colonnades, 
the sun°lingers in splendor, but not as erst, when the re- 
flected lustre of her marbles dazzled like the glory of his 
own true beam. 

8. There, in their gloomy boldness, stand her palaces, 
but the song of carousal is hushed for ever. You may be- 
hold the places of her fountains, but you will hear no mur- 

276 sterling's southern fourth reader. ' 

mur ; they are ad the water-courses of the desert. There, 
too, are her gardens, but the barrenness of long antiquity is 
theirs. You may stand in her amphitheatre and read utter 
desolation on her bare and dilapidated walls. 

9. Pompeii ! mouldering relic of a former world ! Strange 
redemption from the sepulchre ! How vivid are the classic 
memories that cluster around thee ! Thy loneliness is rife 
with tongues, for the shadows of the mighty are thy so- 
journers Man walks thy desolated and forsaken streets, 
and is lost in the dreams of other days. He converses with 
the genius of the past, and the Roman stands as freshly re- 
called as before the billow of lava stiffened above him. A 
Pliny, a Sallust, a Trajan, are in his musings, and he visits 
their very homes. 

10. Venerable and eternal city! The storied urn of a 
nation's memory ! A disentombed and risen witness for 
the dead ! Every stone of thee is consecrated and immor- 
tal. Rome was ; Thebes was ; Sparta was ; thou wast and 
art still. No Goth nor Vandal thundered at thy gates, nor 
revelled in thy spoil. Man marred not thy magnificence. 
Thou wert scathed by the finger of Him who alone knew 
the depths of thy violence and crime. Babylon of Italy ! 
thy doom was not revealed to thee. No prophet was there 
when thy towers were tottering, and the ashy darkness ob- 
scured thy horizon, to construe the warning. The wrath of 
God was upon thee heavily ; in the volcano was the hiding 
of His power, and like the ancient cities of the plain, thy 
judgment was sealed in fire. 

Spell and define — 

1. Crater. 4. Ponderous. 6. Belched. 
Molten. Antiquity. 7. Colonnades. 

2. Ethereal. 5. Banquets. 8. Dilapidated. 

3. Crackling. Amphitheatre. 9. Mouldering. 
Myriads. Forum. 10. Construe. 



Spell and define — 

2. Shaft, the body of a column. 52. Wells, issues forth as water 
Ar'chi trave, that part which from the earth. 

rests immediately upon the 59. An-ni'hi-lat-ed, reduced to 
column. nothing. 

4. Vault, an arched roof. 62. Cor'o-nal, a crown, a wreath. 
13. Swayed, moved, waved back 64. Glare, a bright dazzling 

and forth. > light. 

18. Sanct'u-a-mes, places set 68. Em-a-na'tion, that which pro- 

apart for the worship of ceeds from any source. 

God - 87. Arch, chief, principal. 

34. Shrine, a box for sacred rel- 116. El'ements, in popular lan- 

ics, here a place for worship- guage, fire, air, earth, and 

ping God. wa ter 
38. Fantastic, whimsical, odd. 

god's first temples. 

1. The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned 
To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, 
And spread the roof above them — ere he framed 
The lofty vault, to gather and roll back 

5. The sound of anthems — in the darkling wood, 
Amid the cool and silence, he knelt down 
And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks 
And supplication. For his simple heart 
Might not resist the sacred influences, 

10. That, from the stilly twilight of the place, 

And from the gray old trunks, that high in heaven 
Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound 
Of the invisible breath, that swayed at once 
All their green tops, stole over them, and bowed 

15. His spirit, with the thought of boundless Power 
And inaccessible Majesty. Ah, why 
Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect 
God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore 

278 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Only among the crowd, and under roofs 
20. That our frail hands have raised ! Let me, at least 
Here, in the shadow of this aged wood, 
Offer one hymn ; thrice happy if it find 
Acceptance in His ear. 

Father, thy hand 

25. Hath reared these venerable columns. Thou 

Didst weave this verdant roof. Thou didst look down 
Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose 
All these fair ranks of trees. They, in Thy sun 
Budded, and shook their green leaves in Thy breeze, 

30. And shot toward heaven. The century-living crow, 
Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died 
Among their branches ; till, at last, they stood, 
As now they stand, massy, and tall, and dark, 
Fit shrine for humble worshipper to hold 

35. Communion with his Maker. Here are seen 
No traces of man's pomp, or pride ; no silks 
Rustle, no jewels shine, nor envious eyes 
Encounter ; no fantastic carvings show 
The boast of our vain race to change the form 

40. Of Thy fair works. But Thou art here ; Thou filPst 
The solitude. Thou art in the soft winds, 
That run along the summits of these trees 
In music : Thou art in the cooler breath, 
That, from the inmost darkness of the place, 

45 Comes, scarcely felt ; the barky trunks, the ground, 
The fresh, moist ground, are all instinct with Thee. 
Here is continual worship ; nature, here, 
In the tranquillity that Thou dost love, 
Enjoys Thy presence. Noiselessly, around, 

50. From perch to perch, the solitary bird 

Passes ; and yon clear spring, that, 'mid its herbs, 
Wells softly forth, and visits the strong roots 
Of half the mighty forest, tells no tale 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 279 

Of all the good it does. Thou hast not left 

55. Thyself without a witness, in these shades, 

Of Thy perfections. Grandeur, strength, and grace 
Are here to speak of Thee. This mighty oak, 
By whose immovable stem I stand, and seem 
Almost annihilated, not a prince, 

60. In all the proud old world beyond the deep, 
E'er wore his crown as loftily as he 
Wears the green coronal of leaves, with which 
Thy hand has graced him. Nestled at his root 
Is beauty, such as blooms not in the glare __ 

65. Of the broad sun. That delicate forest flower 
With scented breath, and look so like a smile, 
Seems, as it issues from the shapeless mould, 
An emanation of the indwelling Life, 
A visible token of the upholding Love, 

70. That are the soul of this wide universe. 
My heart is awed within me, when I think 
Of the great miracle that still goes on, 
In silence, round me ; the perpetual work 
Of Thy creation, finished, yet renewed 

15. For ever. Written on Thy works, I read 
The lesson of Thy own eternity. 
Lo ! all grow old and die : but see, again, 
How on the faltering footsteps of decay 
Youth passes, ever gay and beautiful youth, 

80. In all its beautiful forms. These lofty trees 
Wave not less proudly that their ancestors 
Moulder beneath them. Oh, there is not lost 
One of earth's charms : upon her bosom yet, 
After the flight of untold centuries, 

85. The freshness of her far beginning lies, 
And yet shall lie. Life mocks the idle hate 
Of his arch enemy, Death ; yea, seats himself 
Upon the sepulchre, and blooms and smiles ; 
And of the triumphs of his ghastly foe 

2 SO sterling's southern fourth reader. 

90. Makes his own nourishment. For he came forth 
From Thine own bosom, and shall have no end. 

There have been holy men, who hid themselves 
Deep in the woody wilderness, and gave 
Their lives to thought and prayer, till they outlived. 
95. The generation born with them, nor seemed 
Less aged than the hoary trees and rocks 
Around them ; and there have been holy men, 
Who deemed it were not well to pass life thus. 
But let me often to these solitudes 

100. Retire, and in Thy presence, reassure 
My feeble virtue. Here, its enemies, 
The passions, at Thy plainer footsteps, shrink, 
And tremble, and are still. O God ! when Thou 
Dost scare' the world with tempests, set on fire 

105. The heavens with falling thunderbolts, or fill 
With all the waters of the firmament, 
The swift, dark whirlwind, that uproots the woods 
And drowns the villages ; when, at Thy call, 
Uprises the great deep, and throws himself 

110. Upon the continent and overwhelms 

Its cities ; who forgets not, at the sight 
Of these tremendous tokens of Thy power, 
His pride, and lays his strifes and follies by ? 
Oh, from these sterner aspects of Thy face 

115. Spare me and mine; nor let us need the wrath 
Of the mad, unchained elements, to teach 
Who rules them. Be it ours to meditate, 
In these calm shades, Thy milder majesty, 
And to the beautiful order of Thy works, 

120. Learn to conform the order of our lives. 

W. C. Bryant. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 


8. Supplication. 
16. Inaccessible. 
25. Venerable. 
35. Communion. 

Spell and define— 

38. Encounter. 
48. Tranquillity. 
56. Perfections. 
61. Loftily. 

18. Faltering. 

90. Nourishment. 
112. Tremendous. 
120. Conform. 


Spell and define — 

3. Flus'tered, agitated, confused. 
Pal'sied, deprived of the power 
of motion. 
6. Dra'per-y, curtains, hangings. 
Par-a-pher-na'li-a, appen- 
dages, ornaments. 12. 
Brooch'es, clasps. 

8. Rouge, red paint for the cheek. 

9. Ob-lit'er-ate, to efface. 

E-lab'o-rate, finished with 

great labor. 
Leer'ing, looking obliquely. 
Tin'sel, something shining 

and gaudy. 
Dis-tort'ed, twisted out of 

natural shape. 
Un-sight'ly, disagreeable to 

the eye. 


1. "Whai can Charlotte be doing all this while?" in- 
quired her mother. She listened — " I have not heard her 
moving for the last three quarters of an hour ! I will call 
the maid and ask." She rung the bell, and the servant ap- 

2. • Betty, Miss Jones is not gone yet, is she ? Go up 
:o her room, Betty, and see if she wants any thing, and tell 
her it is half-past nine o'clock," said Mrs. Jones. The 
servant accordingly went up-stairs, and knocked at the bed- 

oom door, once, twice, thrice, but received no answer, 
rhere was a dead silence, except when the wind shook the 
window. Could Miss Jones have fallen asleep ? Oh, im- 
possible ! 

3. She knocked again, but as unsuccessfully as before. 

282 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

She became a little flustered ; and, after a moment's pause, 
opened the door and entered. There was Miss Jones sit- 
ting at the glass. "Why, ma'am?" commenced Betty, in 
a petulant tone, walking up to her, " here have I been 
knocking for these five minutes, and- " Betty stag- 
gered, horror-struck, to the bed, and uttering a loud shriek, 
alarmed Mrs. Jones, who instantly tottered up-stairs, al- 
most palsied with fright. Miss Jones was dead ! 

4< I was there within a few minutes, for my house was 
not more than two streets distant. It was a stormy night 
in March; and the desolate aspect of things without; de- 
serted streets, the dreary howling of the wind, and the 
incessant pattering of the rain, contributed to cast a gloom 
over my mind, when connected with the intelligence of 
the awful event that had summoned me out, which was 
deepened into horror by the spectacle I was doomed to 

5. On reaching the house, I found Mrs. Jones in violent 
hysterics, surrounded by several of her neighbors, who had 
been called to her assistance. I repaired to the scene of 
death, and beheld what I never shall forget. 

6. The room was occupied by a white-curtained bed. 
There was but one window, and before it was *a table, on 
which stood a looking-glass, hung with a little white 
drapery ; and various paraphernalia of the toilet lay scat- 
tered about ; pins, brooches, curling-papers, ribbons, gloves, 

7. An arm-chair was drawn to this table, and in it sat 
Miss Jones, stone dead. Her head rested upon her right 
hand, her elbow supported by the table; while her left 
hung down by her side, grasping a pair of curling-irons. 
Each of her wrists was encircled by a showy gilt bracelet. 

8. She was dressed in a white muslin frock, with a little 
bordering of blonde. Her face was turned toward the 
glass, which, by the light of the expiring candle, reflected,, 
with frightful fidelity, the clammy, fixed features, daubed 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 283 

with rouge and carmine, the fallen lower jaw, and the eyes 
directed full into the glass, with a cold stare, that was ap- 

9. On examining the countenance more narrowly, I 
thought I detected the traces of a smirk of conceit and' 
self-complacency, which not even the palsying touch of 
death could wholly obliterate. The hair of the corpse, all 
smooth and glossy, was curled with elaborate precision ; 
and the skinny, sallow neck was encircled with a string of 
glistening pearls. The ghastly visage of death thus leer- 
ing through the tinsel of fashion, the " vain show " of arti- 
ficial joy, was a horrible mockery of the fooleries of life! 

10. Indeed, it was a most humiliating and shocking spec- 
tacle. Poor creature ! struck dead in the very act of sacri- 
ficing at the shrine of female vanity! 

11. On examination of the body, we found that death 
had been occasioned by disease of the heart. Her life 
might have been protracted, possibly for years, had she but 
taken my advice, and that of her mother. 

12. I have seen many hundreds of corpses, as well in the 
calm composure of natural death as mangled and distorted 
by violence ; but never have I seen so startling a satire 
upon human vanity, so repulsive, unsightly, and loathsome 
a spectacle, as a corpse dressed for a ball! 

Diary of a Physician. 

Spell and define — 

5. Hysterics. 7. Encircled. 9. Smirk. 

3. Toilet. 8. Carmine. 12. Loathsome. 


A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun, 

All purely white, and tinged with crimson glow ; 

Long did I watch it calmly moving on 
O'er the still radiance of the lake below. 

284 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Tranquil its spirit seemed, and floated slow ; 

Even in its very motion there was rest ; 
While every breath of eve, that chanced to blow, 

Wafted the traveller to the beauteous west. 
Emblem, methought, of the departed soul, 

To whose white robe the gleam of bliss is given ; 
And by the breath of Mercy made to roll 

Right onward to the gates of heaven, 
Where, to the eye of faith, it peaceful lies, 

And tells to man his glorious destinies. 

LESSOR xciv. 
Spell and define — 

1. Fis'sure, a cleft in the rock. 4. Il-lu'sive, deceptive. 
Pict-u-resque', peculiarly at- 5. Pre-cip'i-tous, steep. 

tractive. 7. Dell,, a narrow valley. 

2. Par'a-pet, a wall to prevent Re-cess'es, retired places. 

persons falling over. 


1. This famous bridge is on the head of a fine limestone 
hill, which has the appearance of having been rent asunder 
by some terrible convulsion in nature. The fissure thus made 
is about ninety feet ; and over it the bridge runs, so need- 
ful to the spot, and so unlikely to have survived the great 
fracture, as to seem the work of man ; so simple, so grand, 
so great, as to assure you that it is only the work of God. 
The span of the arch runs from 45 to 60 feet wide ; and its 
height, to the under line, is about 200 feet, and to the head 
about 240 ! The form of the arch approaches to the ellip- 
tical ; and it is carried over on a diagonal line, the very ! 
line of all others so difficult to the architect to realize ; and 
yet so calculated to enhance the picturesque beauty of the 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 285 

2. There are chiefly three points of sight. You naturally 
make your way to the head of the bridge first ; and as it is a 
continuation of the common road, with its sides covered with 
fine shrubs and trees, you may be on it before you are aware. 
But the moment you approach through the foliage to the side, 
you are filled with apprehension. It has, indeed, a natural 
parapet ; but few persons can stand forward and look over. 
You instinctively seek to reduce your height, that you may 
gaze on what you admire with security. Even then it agi- 
tates you with dizzy sensations. 

3. You then make your way some fifty feet down the bosom 
of the hill, and are supplied with some admirable standings 
on the projecting rockwork, to see the bridge and all its rich 
accompaniments. There is, 200 feet below you, the Cedar 
Creek, apparently motionless, except where it flashes with 
light as it cuts its way through the broken rocks. Mark the 
trees of every variety, but especially the fir, how they di- 
minish as they stand on the margin of its bed; and how 
they ascend, step by step, on the noble rockwork, till they 
overshadow you ; still preserving such delicacy of form and 
growth, as if they would not do an injury, while they lend 
a grace. 

4. Observe those hills, gathering all around you in their 
fairest forms and richest verdure, as if to do honor to a scene 
of surpassing excellence. Now look at the bridge itself, 
springing from this bed of verdant loveliness, distinct, one, 
complete ! It is before you in its most picturesque form. 
You just see through the arch, and the internal face of the 
further pier is perfectly revealed. Did you ever see such a 
pier — such an arch ? Is it not most illusive ! Look at that 
masonry. Is it not most like the perfection of art ; and yet 
what art could never reach ? Look at that coloring. Does 
it not appear like the painter's highest skill, and yet un- 
speakably transcend it ? 

5. This is exquisite. Still you have no just conception of 
this masterpiece until you get below. You go some little 

286 sterling's southern fourth reader, 

distance for this purpose, as in the vicinity of the bridge the 
rocks are far too precipitous. A hot and brilliant day is, of 
all others, the time to enjoy this object. To escape from a 
sun which scorches you, into these verdant and cool bottoms, 
is a luxury of itself, which disposes you to relish every thing 
else. When down, I was very careful of the first impression, 
and I did not venture to look steadily on the objects about 
me till I had selected my station. 

6. At length I placed myself about 100 feet from the bridge, 
on some masses of rock which were washed by the running 
waters, and ornamented by the slender trees which were 
springing from its fissures. At my feet was the soothing 
melody of the rippling, gushing waters. Behind me, and in 
the distance, the river and the hills were expanding them- 
selves to the light and splendor of day. Before me, and all 
around, every thing was reposing in the most delightful 
shade, set off by the streaming rays of the sun, which shot 
across the head of the picture far above you, and sweetened ! 
the solitude below. On the right and left, the majestic 
rocks arose, with the decision of a wall, but without its 
uniformity, massive, broken, beautiful, and supplying a 
most admirable foreground; and, everywhere, the most 
delicate stems were planted in their crevices, and waving 
their heads in the soft breeze, which occasionally came over 

1. The eye now ran through the bridge, and was gratified 
with a lovely vista. The blue mountains stood out in the 
background ; beneath them, the hills and woods gathered 
together, so as to inclose the dell below ; while the river, 
which was coursing away from them, seemed to have its 
well-head hidden in their recesses. Then there is the arch, 
distinct from every thing, and above every thing ! Massive 
as it is, it is light and beautiful by its height, and the fine 
trees on its summit seem now only like a garland of ever- 
greens ; and, elevated as it is, its apparent elevation is won- 
derfully increased by the narrowness of its piers, and by its 



outline being drawn on the blue sky, which appears beneath 
and above it ! 

8. Oh, it is sublime — so strong and yet so elegant — spring- 
ing from earth, and bathing its head in heaven ! But it is 
the sublime not allied to the terrific, as at Niagara ; it is the 
sublime associated with the pleasing. I sat, and gazed in 
wonder and astonishment. That afternoon was the shortest 
I ever remembered. I had quickly, too quickly, to leave the 
spot for ever ; but the music of those waters, the luxury of 
those shades, the form and colors of those rocks, and that 
arch — that arch — rising over all, and seeming to offer a pas- 
sage to the skies — Oh, they will never leave me ! 

English Journal. 

1. Convulsion. 

Spell and define — 

2. Foliage. 
4. Verdant. 


5. Exquisite. 

6. Massive. 

7. Background. 

lesson xcv. 

Spell and define — 
Plumped, fattened, made full. 5. Frank, open, candid 

3. Wee, very small. 

8. Wood, here Cross, of Christ 


Six changeful years are gone, Lilly, 

Since you were born to be 
A darling to your mother good, 

A happiness to me ; 
A little shivering, feeble thing 

You were to touch and view ; 
But Ave could see a promise in 

Your baby eyes of blue. 

288 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

2. You fastened on our hearts, Lilly, 

As day by day wore by, 
And beauty grew upon your cheeks, 

And deepened in your eye ; 
A year made dimples in your hands, 

And plumped your, little feet, 
And you had learned some merry ways 

Which we thought very sweet. 

3. And when the first sweet word, Lilly, 

Your wee mouth learned to say, 
Your mother kissed it fifty times, 

And marked the famous day ; 
I know not even now, my dear, 

If it were quite a word ; 
But your proud mother surely knew, 

For she the sound had heard. 

4. When you were four years old, Lilly, 

You were my little friend, 
And we had walks and nightly plays, 

And talks without an end. 
You little ones are sometimes wise, 

For you .are undefiled ; 
A grave grown man will start to hear 

The strange words of a child. 

5. When care pressed on our house, Lilly, 

Pressed with an iron hand, 
I hated mankind for the wrong 

Which festered in the land. 
But when I read your young, frank face, 

Its meanings sweet and good, 
My charities grew clear again, 

I felt my brotherhood. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 289 

6. And sometimes it would be, Lilly, 

My faith in God grew cold, 
For I saw virtue go in rags, 

And vice in cloth of gold ; 
But in your innocence, my child, 

And in your mother's love, 
I learned those lessons of the heart 

Which fasten it above. 

1. At last our cares are gone, Lilly, 

And peace is back again, 
As you have seen the sun shine out 

After the gloomy rain ; 
In the good land where we were born, 

We may be happy still, 
A life of love will bless our home — 

The house upon the hill. 

8. Thanks to your gentle face, Lilly, 
Its innocence was strong 
To keep me constant to the right, 
When tempted by the wrong ; 
The little ones were dear to Him 

Who died upon the wood, 
I ask His gentle care for you, 
And for your mother good. 

Philip P. Cooke. 

/Spell and define — 

1. Darling. 4. Undefiled. Charities. 
Shivering. Start. 6. Innocence. 

2. Dimples. 5. Festered. 8. Constant. 


290 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

lussokt xcvi. 

Spell and define — 

1. Tinge, a slight degree of color. 36. Ln'cense, the odors of spices 

3. Rabbi, a title given to learn- burned in religious wor- 

ed men among the Jews. ship. 

19. Re-past', a meal. Re-luc'tant, unwilling. 

26. Or'i-sons, prayers. 44. Sap'piiire, a precious stone 

°,8. Pon-tif'i-cal, belonging to of a blue color. 

the high-priest. 48. Ltjs'tre, splendor, brightness. 

30. Cymbal, an instrument of 58. Spou'sal, relating to mar- 

music. r i age- 

Psal'ter-y, an instrument of 83. Chast'ened, afflicted for cor- 

music. rection. 

33. Hal-le-ltj'jahs, praises to 84. Hom'age, reverential wor- 

God. ship. 


1. Twilight was deepening with a tinge of eve, 
As toward his home in Israel's sheltered vales 
A stately Rabbi drew. His camels spied 
Afar the palm-trees' lofty heads, that decked 
5. The dear, domestic fountain, and in speed 

Pressed with broad foot the smooth and dewy glade. 
The holy man his peaceful threshold passed 
With hasting step. The evening meal was spread, 
And she who from life's morn his heart had shared 

10. Breathed her fond welcome. Bowing o'er the board, 
The blessing of his fathers' God he sought; 
Ruler of earth and sea. Then raising high 
The sparkling wine-cup, " Call my sons," he bade, 
" And let me bless them ere their hour of rest." 

15. The observant mother spake with gentle voice 
Somewhat of soft excuse, that they were wont 
To linger long amid the Prophets' school, 
Learning the holy law their father loved. 
His sweet repast with sweet discourse was blent, 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 291 

0. Of journeying and return. " Would thou hadst seen 
With me, the golden morning bring to light 
Yon mountain summits, whose blue, waving line 
Scarce meets thine eye, where chirp of joyous birds, 
A breath of fragrant herbs and spicy gales, 

5. And sigh of waving boughs, stirred in the soul 
Warm orisons. Yet most I wished thee near 
Amid the temple's pomp, when the high-priest, 
Clad in his robe pontifical, invoked 
The God of Abraham, while on the lute and harp, 

0. Cymbal, and trump, and psaltery, and glad breath 
Of tuneful Levite, and the mighty shout 
Of all our people, like the swelling sea, 
Loud hallelujahs burst. When next I seek 
Blest Zion's glorious hill, our beauteous boys 

5. Must bear me company. Their early prayers 
Will rise as incense. Thy reluctant love 
No longer must withhold them : the new toil 
Will give them sweeter sleep, and touch their cheek 
With brighter crimson. 'Mid their raven curls 

:0. My hand I'll lay, and dedicate them there, 
Even in those courts, to Israel's God, 
Two spotless lambs, well pleasing in His sight. 
But yet, methinks, thou'rt paler grown, my love ? 
And the pure sapphire of thine eye looks dim, 

•5. As though 'twere washed with tears. 

Faintly she smiled, 

" One doubt, my lord, I fain would have thee solve. 
Gems of rich lustre and of countless cost 
Were to my keeping trusted. Now, alas ! 
>0. They are demanded. Must they be restored ? 
Or may I not a little longer gaze 
Upon their dazzling hues ?" His eyes grew stern 
And on his lip there lurked a sudden curl 
Of indignation. " Doth my wife propose 

292 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

55. Such doubt ? as if a master might not claim 
His own again ?" " Nay, Rabbi, come, behold 
These priceless jewels ere I yield them back." 
So to their spousal chamber, with soft hand 
Her lord she led. There, on a snow-white couch 

60. Lay his two sons, pale, pale, and motionless, 
Like fair twin lilies, which some grazing kid 
In wantonness had cropped. " My sons ! my sons ! 
Light of my eyes !" the astonished father cried ; 
" My teachers in the law ! whose guileless hearts 

65. And prompt obedience warned me oft to be 
More perfect with my God !" 

To earth he fell, 
Like Lebanon's rent cedar ; while his breast 
Heaved with such groans as when the laboring soul 

70. Breaks from its clay companion's close embrace. 
The mourning mother turned away and wept, 
Till the first storm of passionate grief was still ; 
Then, pressing to his ear her faded lip, 
She sighed in tone of tremulous tenderness, 

75. " Thou didst instruct me, Rabbi, how to yield 

The summoned jewels. See ! the Lord did give — 
The Lord hath taken away." 

" Yea !" said the sire, 
" And blessed be His name. Even for thy sake 

80. Thrice blessed be Jehovah." Long he pressed 
On those cold, beautiful brows his quivering lip, 
While from his eye the burning anguish rolled ; 
Then, kneeling low, those chastened spirits poured 
Their mighty homage forth to God. 

Mrs. Sigourney. 

Spell and define — 

1. Twilight. 31. Tuneful. 61. Grazing. 

5. Domestic. 40. Dedicate. 62. Wantonness. 

6. Glade. 52. Hues. t 64. Guileless. 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 293 

lesson xcvii. 
Spell and define — 

1. Par'leys, discusses, holds con- 6. Leth'ar-GY, morbid drowsi- 

sultation. ness - 

3. U'pas, a tree which is said Cas-til'i-an, Spanish. 

to poison the atmosphere 9. Mo-kan'na, a Moslem impos- 

around it . tor of the 8th century. He 

Fa-ler'ni-an, an Italian wine. wore a mask to conceal his 

5. Pro-scrip'tive, condemning as face, and pretended to be the 

unworthy of reception. embodiment of God. 


1. Party spirit is more to be shunned than any other 
vice, not only for its disastrous consequences, but because 
of the proneness of nature to run into it. We are all more 
or less, at times, secretly tinctured with the feeling, and 
have to rise superior to it by force of reason and virtue ; 
he will not be able to do it who parleys for a single mo- 
ment with his duty. The vice is a deceitful one. It often 
wears the mask of patriotism ; and under this nattering dis- 
guise, it wins the undiscerning. 

2. The vicious woo it, enamored of its prostitutions, whilst 
many worthy citizens and public men are seduced to its em- 
braces from its outward similitude to virtue ; but no matter 
into what bosom it finds its way ; or in what assembly it 
may prevail, wherever it strikes its poisonous roots, it never 
fails, sooner or later, to extirpate every virtuous sentiment 
and generous impulse. 

3. It is a baneful Upas, that permits no moral flower to 
flourish in its shade. The individual wbo bows to its do- 
minion can never generate a noble purpose ; the politician 
who consults its authority is recreant to liberty ; and the 
nation that shall become drunk with its infernal fires will 
most assuredly forfeit the favor of heaven, and become the 
self-inflictor of a righteous punishment. Its march is from 

294 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

folly to madness, from madness to crime, from crime tc 
death. Its votaries may change their livery, bat to be i 
violent partisan once is to be a partisan for life ; he is \ 
spellbound being, whose infatuations may drive him, a] 
occasions require, from turpitude to turpitude, until 'the 
very blood of infancy becomes the Falernian of his revels. 

4. It is useless to confirm these truths by historical ex- 
amples; for what is all history but a record of the bloody 
march of faction? Every page is burdened with wars, 
not for the sacred liberties of man, but for the unhallowed 
exaltation of contending aspirants. Do you turn to the- 
ancient mistress of the world ?-where is the patriot that 
doth not sigh at the civil strifes that seated Sylla upon bleed 
ing Rome, and his rival upon the ruins of Carthage ? Do 
you look to that sea-encircled nation, whose resentful Roses 
would not bloom together ?— who doth not mark in the 
broils of York and Lancaster a melancholy monument of 
the folly and madness of party ? 

5. Or will you turn for a moment to that lovely region, 
of the olive and the vine, where the valleys are all smiling 
and the people are all cheerful ?- who that hath a spark 
of nature m his soul doth not weep at the horrid atrocities 
perpetrated under the name of liberty, by Robespierre and 
his bloody coadjutors, during the reign of the Jacobin fac- 
tion m revolutionary France ? These examples by way of 
melancholy warning, may serve to show the unnatural 
lengths into which deluded and infatuated man will hurry, 
when once enlisted under the proscriptive banner of party! 
6. If any other exhibition of the direful effects of party 
spirit be wanting, it is furnished in the history of a people 
whose career is familiar to us all. Look at Mexico. A 
few years ago she awoke from a lethargy of centuries, and 
m the majesty of eight millions of people, shook Castilian 
bondage from her, like "dew-drops from the lion's mane." 
But see her now— the miserable victim of self-oppression 
and debasement; torn to pieces by civil discord; bleeding 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 295 

at every pore by party rage; her resources exhausted, her 
strength defied, and her very name despised. These are 
the bitter fruits of that dreadful mania which makes a whole 
people offer up, at the shrine of demagogues, that devotion 
and sacrifice which is due alone to their country. 

V. Mexico had the chivalry to conquer, without the vir- 
tue to profit by it. Her patriots achieved independence, 
and demagogues ruined her hopes. Enemy as she is to us, 
I am not a foe to her freedom; for next to the safety and 
welfare of my own land, I should rejoice to see our free 
principles and liberal institutions ingrafted into her gov- 
ernment, so that they might finally spread their benign in- 
fluence over the whole continent of America. 

8. Once we had the promise of this in the opening career 
of a bold champion of freedom, who, sick of the woes of his 
distracted country, called upon the virtuous of all parties 
to unite with him in the expulsion of faction, and in the 
chastisement of a bloated priesthood. He published to his 
countrymen a system of government which promised order, 
stability, and safety. It was received with acclamation. 
Thousands gathered around his standard. They came with 
high hopes and devoted hearts. The cannon soon spoke 
upon the mountains and the enemies of order trembled. 
Foes fled before him— Rebellion hid his head, and even au- 
dacious Bigotry quailed in the glance of his eye. He was 
born to command ; and all voices hailed him the saviour of 
his country. 

9. But mark the sequel. No sooner was he firmly plant- 
ed in power, the idol of the people with every obstacle re- 
moved to the introduction of this new order of things, all 
eyes expecting and all hearts desiring it, when, lo ! the veil 
—the silver veil— was drawn aside, and instead of the mild 
features of the patriot the foul visage of Mokanna, with its 
terrific deformity, burst upon the astonished nation. 

10. And do you ask the moral of this tale? The discern- 
ing mind will read it in the awful truth— that party is as 

296 sterling's southern fourth reader 

cruel as the grave ; that its bonds are as strong as death ; 
that there is no receding from its unhallowed infatuations' 
and that he who enrols his name under its bloody flag, di- 
vorces himself from humanity, and for ever sells his sot'l to 
the powers of darkness. JM. B. Lamar. 

1. Disastrous. 

2. Similitude. 

Spell and define- 

3. Baneful. 

4. Aspirants. 

5. Atrocities. 







Spell and define — 

2. Ap-pke'ci-AT-ed, properly val- 6. Un-tar'nished, not stained, 

ued - unblemished. 

3. Hec'a-tombs, immense num- Chap'let, a wreath for the 

bers - head. 


1. Sir: This whole country was thrown into one general 
burst of joy, our towns were illuminated, when the little 
army on the Rio Grande repulsed, beat on two fields, a 
Mexican army three times their number, advantageously 
posted, and fighting with obstinacy proportionate to their 
numerical superiority. But why recount it ? It was an 
army, according to the senator's dictum, which could have 
been held in check by two hundred and fifty Texan rangers. 

2. Is it true, sir, that those soldiers who had spent their 
lives in acquiring their profession, with an army of two 
thousand men, than which none was ever more favorably 
composed for desperate service, old soldiers and young 
leaders, performed what two hundred and fifty Texan 
rangers could have done so much more effectually? Shades 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 297 

tf Ringgold, Mcintosh, Barbour, Ridgely, and Duncan, and 
hou the hero of the Mexican war, let not your ashes be 
listurbed. The star of your glory shall never be obscured 
>y such fogs and fleeting clouds as that. It will continue 
o shine brighter and brighter as long as professional skill 
s appreciated, or bravery is admired, or patriotism has a 
ihrine in the American heart. 

3. But, sir, it was not alone in the United States that the 
nilitary movements and achievements on the Rio Grande 
ivere viewed with admiration. The greatest captain of the 
ige,' the Duke of Wellington, the moment he saw the posi- 
tions taken and the combinations made upon the Rio Grande 
—the moment he saw the communication opened between 
the depot at Point Isabel and the garrison at Fort Brown, 
by that masterly movement of which the battles of Palo 
Alto and Resaca de la Palma were a part— exclaimed, that 
General Taylor is a general indeed. And yet sir, all history 
is to be rewritten, all the rapture and pride of the country 
at the achievements upon those bloody fields are to disap- 
pear, and the light of science to pale before the criticism of 
that senator by whom we are told that a little band of 
mounted riflemen could have done that which cost so many 
American lives and hecatombs of Mexicans. 

4. I have spoken thus as a simple duty, not from any un- 
kindness to the senator, but that I might do justice to many 
of my comrades, whose dust now mingles with the earth 
upon which they fought— that I might not leave unredressed 
the wrongs of the buried dead. I have endeavored to sup- 
press personal feeling, though the character of the attack 
upon my friend and general might have pardoned its in- 
dulgence. It is true that sorrow sharpens memory, and 
that many deeds of noblest self-sacrifice, many tender asso- 
ciations, rise now vividly before me. I remember the purity 
of his character, his vast and varied resources ; and I re- 
member how the good and great qualities of his heart were 
equally and jointly exhibited, when he took the immense 


sterling's southern fourth reader. 

responsibility under which he acted at the battle of Buens 
Vista, fought after he had been recommended by his senioi 
general to retire to Monterey. 

5. Around him stood those whose lives were in hi 
charge, whose mothers, fathers, wives, and children woulc 
look to him for their return ; those were there who hac 
shared his fortunes on other fields ; some who, never having 
seen a battle, were eager for the combat, without knowing 
how direful it would be ; immediately about him were those 
loving and beloved, and reposing such confidence in the! 
commander, that they but waited his beck to do and dare 

6. On him, and on him alone, rested the responsibility. 
It was in his power to avoid it by retiring to Monterey, 
there to be invested and captured, and then justify himself' 
under his instructions. He would not do it, but cast all 
upon the die, resolved to maintain his country's honor and 
save his country's flag from trailing in the dust of the 
enemy he had so often beaten, or close the conqueror's: 
career as became the soldier. His purpose never wavered, 
his determination never faltered; his country's honor to be 
untarnished, his country's flag to triumph, or for himself to 
find an honorable grave, was the only alternative he con- 
tnS' ^l er th6Se CirCUmstaDce 3> on the morning of: 
the 23d of February, that glorious but bloody conflict com- 
menced. It won for him a chaplet that it would be a dis- 
grace for any American to mutilate, and which it were an 
idle attempt to adorn. I leave it to a grateful country, 
which is conscious of his services, and possesses a discrimb 
nation which is not to be confounded by the assertions of 
any, however high their position. 

Hon. Jefferson Davis. 

Sterling's southern fourth reader. 



Spell and define — 
1 Ham'mock, a hanging bed used 9. Ab-scond', run away. 

' on board ships. P» HtfawiOWT. m poverty. 

4 Lamb'kins, young lambs. 13. Ae'elu-ent, wealthy abundant. 

5. Scrip, a small bag or satchel. 15. Ke-cocnt'ed, related 


1 Dark was the night, and dreadful was the storm when 
James Corbett was roused from his hammock by the cry ot 
" A leak ! all hands to the pumps !" Without a moment s 
delay he hurried on his clothes, and flew to the assistance 
of his shipmates; but alas! their exertions were unavail- 
ing The lightning which glared through the profound 
darkness only served to reveal the rocks on which they had 
already struck; and the terrific thunder which rolled over 
their heads added fresh terror to the lamentations of those 
who considered that, in a few moments, they might be for 
ever swallowed up in the bosom of the ocean. 

2. After laboring at the pumps till his strength was com- 
pletely exhausted, James went upon deck in the hope of 
recovering his breath and strength. Here, however, he 
had the misfortune to behold his beloved father perish be- 
fore his eyes ; and, in a few moments, he himself was swept 
into the sea by a tremendous wave, which broke ove, he 
ship with irresistible violence. Providentially, however the 
vessel was at a very short distance from the coast ; and as 
the tide was strongly setting in toward the shore on 
young sailor was thrown upon the beach before he was 
completely deprived of his senses. 

3 After resting till daybreak, he looked around and 
pe Lived a church at a short distance. This suggested 
The propriety of his returning thanks to the Almighty for Ins 
miraculous preservation; and this duty he perform d n 
the best manner he could, before he attempted to set for- 


sterling's southern fourth reader. 

ward ; and then committing himself to the protection of 
Heaven, lie wandered he knew not whither, having neither 
a hat upon his head nor shoes on his feet, destitute of a 
single penny, and dependent upon the bounty of strangers 
for the means of subsistence. 

4. After walking several hours, our young mariner arrived 
at a pleasant spot, between Dover and Sandgate, where 
Ralph Martin was accustomed to keep his father's sheep. 
In this place Ralph had passed the greater part of his life 
a stranger to the gratifications of luxury, and the wants of 
ambition. He was alike exposed to the scorching heats of 
summer and the pinching frosts of winter, yet, if his sheep 
were healthy and his lambkins numerous, he was always 
perfectly contented. He thought it no toil to lead them up 
and down the hills, if by the change they obtained better 

5. The weather on the preceding night having been ex- 
tremely tempestuous, and the coast being spread with 
wrecks, Ralph felt the tear of sympathetic tenderness start 
into his eyes, as he gazed around, when the shipwrecked 
sailor approached him, and earnestly solicited a morsel of 
bread. Ralph's scrip was not very well replenished, but 
what he had he freely gave, and sincerely wished it had 
been more. The poor boy whom he relieved, thanked him 
with unaffected gratitude, and informed him of the particu- 
lars of his shipwreck. His father, he said, was captain of a 
vessel which traded from one of the Italian cities to Lon- 

6. They were returning from a prosperous voyage, when 
they were overtaken in the channel by a gale of wind. It 
continued three days, and they were at length wrecked on 
the coast of Kent. He saw his father, in endeavoring to 
catch hold of a rope, miss his aim, and fall overboard. He 
himself was then carried into the sea by an overwhelming 
wave, and only escaped death by being thrown upon the 
beach. The youth wept as he gave this recital ; and Ralph, 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 301 

whose heart felt for every one, wept also. He had two 
shillings and a few halfpence in his pocket, and these con- 
stituted his only possessions : but he gave them willingly to 
relieve a fellow-creature in distress. 

V. As the youth had travelled a long way without shoes, 
he very thankfully accepted Ralph's offer of remaining with 
him till next day. Accordingly, they continued with the 
sheep till it was time for them to be taken home, and then 
Ralph led his guest to his father's cottage. He introduced 
him to his mother, and she, with great good nature, pre- 
pared to broil them a slice of bacon. This was a most de- 
licious treat to the sailor ; and Ralph who had given away 
his dinner, thought it more than usually good. After sup- 
per, they retired to rest; and the next morning, when Ralph 
led out his flock, the poor traveller, being offered a pair of 
old shoes, and a hat, took his leave with many thanks, and 
recommenced his weary journey. 

8. Several years passed away, and Ralph had almost for- 
gotten the circumstance. He had indeed had sufficient on 
his mind to make him forget occurrences even more import- 
ant, having for a long time led a life of sorrow. His father, 
who had always been fond of drinking and bad company, 
had at length indulged himself in these propensities till 
every thing was sacrificed for their gratification. It was in 
vain that Ralph endeavored to stem the torrent ; in vain 
he exerted his industry ; all was of no avail. His father's 
extravagance knew no bounds, whilst any thing remained 
which could be sold. 

9. The flock, by degrees, was parted with, then the furni- 
ture of the little cottage, and at length the cottage itself. 
Nor was this all ; debts accumulated, which there were no 
means of defraying. The man was obliged to abscond, and 
his wife and her son found themselves in the midst of a 
severe winter, without shelter or the means of subsistence. 
Ralph, however, being well known, and generally respected, 
soon engaged himself as shepherd to a neighboring farmer, 

802 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

and hired a small hovel which stood at the foot of a hill 
adjoining the common. Here he lived, penuriously indeed, 
but contentedly ; thankful that he could procure for his 
mother even this shed. 

] 0. The poor woman, smitten by misfortune and borne 
down by advancing years, was incapable of doing any thing 
for herself, and Ralph not only had to support but to nurse 
her. He often found this task very difficult : but in pro- 
portion to his necessities, he increased his exertions ; and 
Heaven, which rewards filial piety and industry, gave a 
blessing to all his efforts. He was enabled to pay the rent 
of his cottage, and to discharge some of the debts his father 
had left ; which being due to some of the poorest of the 
cottagers, they were ill able to lose. For this he was 
obliged to toil very hard, and almost to starve himself; 
but he cheerfully endured all privations whilst he saw his 
mother surrounded by a few comforts, and felt that he was 
discharging an important duty. 

11. One evening he was sitting reading to his aged parent, 
when he heard the rattling of the wheels of a carriage. Such 
a sound was so unusual in that spot, that, after expressing 
his surprise at it, he arose to see whither it was going. It 
stopped at the cottage, and from it alighted a man about 
thirty years of age. Ralph made a respectful bow, and 
asked, whom he was pleased to want ? " Yourself," replied 
the stranger with much affability, " if, as I suppose, you are 
Ralph Martin." Ralph said that he was. "And do you 
indeed not recollect me ?" asked the stranger. 

12. "Do you not remember the poor sailor-boy whom* 
you sheltered and relieved ? I am he ; and if you will givel 
me another night's lodging and a slice of bacon, I will stay 
with you, and give you an account of the circumstances 
which have wrought such a change in my appearance." 
Ralph, who in the change which more than sixteen years 
had made, no longer recognized his shipwrecked acquaint- 
ance, was, however, extremely glad to see him in so much 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 303 

happier circumstances. He assured him of a hearty wel- 
come, but added, he had only a mattress of straw and a 
blanket to offer him. " So much the better," replied Mr. 
Corbett, " it will remind me of former times. But now for 
my history. Give me that box, it will make an excellent 
chair ; and we shall be more at our ease, sitting. 

13. " When I left yosu I determined, if possible, to travel 
to London, and, by the kindness of a wagoner, who seemed 
to feel deeply for my misfortunes, I arrived there on the 
third day. I found my mother in the greatest possible af- 
fliction ; she had just been informed of the melancholy fate 
of my father, and was almost inconsolable. The sight of 
me, however, whom she had also believed dead, in some de- 
gree revived her spirits. I was happy to find she was left 
in comfortable though not affluent circumstances ; and as 
there was a small provision for each of the children, I took 
my share, and embarked with it for the East-Indies, where 
I had a cousin, who had long wished me to assist him in his 

14. "I was received by him with the utmost kindness ; 
and my little property turned to the best account. Twelve 
years of successful industry made me a rich man : and as 
soon as I could settle my affairs, I returned to England. 
I found my mother married, and my brothers and sisters 
fixed in different situations. I have paid every debt I might 
have contracted with them, and my only account which re- 
mains unbalanced is that I have to settle with you." " With 
me, sir ?" said Ralph ; " you have nothing to settle with 
me ! The trifling assistance you received from me was not 
worth remembering; it was only what I should gladly 
have given to any one in your circumstances. Times have 
altered a good deal since, and I often feel the greatest 
grief in witnessing distress which I have not the power to 

15. u But you shall have the power," answered the gen- 
tleman ; " independence could never be better placed than 

304 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

in your hands. But we will talk of these things to-mor- 
row. Now give me my supper, as you promised, for I have 
travelled a good way to-day, and am rather tired." Ralph 
prepared his simple fare, and then showed his guest to his 
humble bed. Next morning, the little story of the misfor- 
tunes with which Ralph had had to struggle was recounted. 
16. The stranger, eager to place him in a happier lot, pur- 
chased a neat cottage ; and having stocked it with every 
necessary, and added fifty sheep, the happy Ralph was 
made owner of it, and lived many years in that prosperity 
which usually follows industry and integrity. His bene- 
factor generally called once or twice in a year to see him ; 
and the peasantry for miles around often amused their chil- 
dren with repeating the good fortune which proved the re- 
ward of hospitality. Idle Houks. 

lesson c. 


The Lord said unto my Lord, Sit thou at my right hand, 
until I make thine enemies thy footstool. — Ps. ex. 1. 

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given : and 
the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name 
shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, 
The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.— Is. ix. 6. 

In his days Judah shall be saved, and Israel shall dwell 
safely : and this is his name whereby he shall be called, 

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with 
God, and the Word was God. 

The same was in the beginning with God. — John i. 1-2. 

And Thomas answered and said unto him, My Lord and 
my God. — John xx. 28. 

Take heed therefore unto yourselves, and to all the flock, 
over which the Holy Ghost hath made you overseers, to 

sterling's southern fourth reader 805 

feed the church of God, which he hath purchased with his 
own blood. — Acts xx. 28. 

Whose are the fathers, and of whom as concerning the 
flesh Christ came, who is over all, God blessed for ever. 
Amen. — Rom. ix. 5. 

And without controversy great is the mystery of godli- 
ness : God was manifest in the flesh, justified in the Spirit, 
seen of angels, preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in 
the world, received up into glory. — 1 Tim. iii. 16. 

But hath in due time manifested his word through 
preaching, which is committed unto me according to the 
commandment of God our Saviour. — Titus i. 3. 

But unto the Son he saith, Thy throne, O God, is for ever 
and ever : a sceptre of righteousness is the sceptre of thy 
kingdom. — Heb. i. 8. 

And we know that the Son of God is come, and hath 
given us an understanding, that we may know him that is 
true, and we are in him that is true, even in his Son Jesus 
Christ. This is the true God, and eternal life.— 1 John v. 

The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of 
God.— Mark i. 1. 

And there was a cloud that overshadowed them : and a 
voice came out of the cloud, saying, This is my beloved 
Son : hear him. — Mark ix. 7. 

Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, 
God dwelleth in him, and he in God.— 1 John iv. 15. 

For in him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bod- 
ily.— Col. ii. 9. 

Ye call me Master and Lord : and ye say well ; for so I 
am. — John xiii. 13. 

The word which God sent unto the children of Israel, 
preaching peace by Jesus Christ : (he is Lord of all.) — Acts 
x. 36. 

And that every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ 
is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.— Philip, ii. 11. 

306 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

These shall make war with the Lamb, and the Lamb shall 
overcome them : for he is Lord- of lords, and King of 
kings : and they that are with him are called and chosen, 
and faithful. — Rev. xvii. 14. 

And he hath on his vesture and on his thigh a name 
— Rev. xix. 16. 

For by him were all things created that are in heaven, 
and that are in earth, visible and invisible, whether they be 
thrones, or dominions, or principalities, or powers : all things 
were created by him, and for him. — Col. i. 18. 

And when he had taken the book, the four beasts and 
four and twenty elders fell down before the Lamb, hav- 
ing every one of them harps, and golden vials full of odors, 
which are the prayers of saints. 

And they sung a new song, saying, Thou art worthy to 
take the book, and to open the seals thereof: for thou wast 
slain, and hast redeemed us to God by thy blood out of 
every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation ; 

And hast made us unto our God kings and priests : and 
we shall reign on the earth. 

And I beheld, and I heard the voice of many angels round 
about the throne and the beasts and the elders : and the 
number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and 
thousands of thousands ; 

Saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was 
slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, 
and honor, and glory, and blessing. 

And every creature which is in heaven, and on the earth, 
and under the earth, and such as are in the sea, and all that 
are in them, heard I saying, Blessing, and honor, and 
glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, 
and unto the Lamb for ever and ever. — Rev. v. 8, 9, 10, 11, 
12, 13. 

After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no 
man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and peo- 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 307 

pie, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the 
Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands ; 
And cried with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our 
God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb.— 
Rev. vii. 9, 10, Bible. 

lesson ci. 


Then said they unto him, What shall we do that we 
might work the works of God ? 

Jesus answered and said unto them, This is the work of 
God, that ye believe on him whom he hath sent. — John vi. 
28, 29. 

Howbeit for this cause I obtained mercy, that in me first 
Jesus Christ might show forth all longsuffering, for a pat- 
tern to them which should hereafter believe on him to life 
everlasting. — 1 Tim. i. 16. 

And this is his commandment, That we should believe on 
the name of his Son Jesus Christ, and love one another, as 
he gave us commandment.— 1 John iii. 23. 

Whosoever believeth that Jesus is the Christ is born of 
God : and every one that loveth him that begat loveth him 
also that is begotten of him. 

These things have I written unto you that believe on the 
name of the Son of God ; that ye may know that ye have 
eternal life, and that ye may believe on the name of the 
Son of God.— 1 John v. 1, 13. 

For God so loved the world, that he gave his only-begot- 
ten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, 
but have everlasting life. — John iii. 16. 

Yerily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, 
and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, 
and shall not come into condemnation ; but is passed from 
death unto life. — John v. 24. 

808 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me 
hath everlasting life. — John vi. 47. 

To him give all the prophets witness, that through his 
name whosoever believeth in him shall receive remission 
of sins. — Acts x. 43. 

Whom having not seen, ye love ; in whom, though now 
ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeak- 
able and full of glory. — 1 Peter i. 8. 

He that believeth on him is not condemned : but he that 
believeth not is condemned already, because he hath not 
believed in the name of the only-begotten Son of God. 

He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life : and 
he that believeth not the Son shall not see life ; but the 
wrath of God abideth on him. — John iii. 18, 36. 

And many more believed because of his own word ; 

And said unto the woman, Now we believe, not because 
of thy saying : for we have heard him ourselves, and know 
that this is indeed the Christ, the Saviour of the world.— 
John iv. 41, 42. Bible. 

lesson on. 


1. Bless the Lord, O my soul. O Lord my God, thou art 
very great ; thou art clothed with honor and majesty. Who 
coverest thyself with light as with a garment : who stretch- 
est out the heavens like a curtain : who layeth the beams 
of his chambers in the waters : who maketh the clouds his 
chariot : who walketh upon the wings of the wind : who 
maketh his angels spirits ; his ministers a flaming fire : 

2. Who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should 
not be removed for ever. Thou coveredst it with the deep 
as with a garment : the waters stood above the mountains. 
At thy rebuke they fled ; at the voice of thy thunder they 
hasted away. They go up by the mountains j they go 


down by the valleys unto the place which thou hast found- 
ed for them. Thou hast set a bound that they may not 
pass over ; that they turn not again to cover the earth. 
He sendeth the springs into the valleys, which run among 
the hills. They give drink to every beast of the field : the 
wild asses quench their thirst. By them shall the fowls 
of the heaven have their habitation, which sing among the 

3. He watereth the hills from his chambers : the earth is 
satisfied with the fruit of thy works. He causeth the grass 
to grow for the cattle, and herb for the service of man : 
that he may bring forth food out of the earth ; and wine 
that maketh glad the heart of man, and oil to make his face 
to shine, and bread which strengtheneth man's heart. 

4. The trees of the Lord are full of sap ; the cedars of 
Lebanon, which he hath planted ; where the birds make 
their nests : as for the stork, the fir-trees are her house. 
The high hills are a refuge for the wild goats ; and the 
rocks for the conies. 

5. He appointed the moon for seasons : the sun knoweth 
his going down. Thou makest darkness, and it is night : 
wherein all the beasts of the forest do creep forth. The 
young lions roar after their prey, and seek their meat from 
God. The sun ariseth, they gather themselves together, 
and lay them down in their dens. Man goeth forth unto 
his work and to his labor until the evening. 

6. Lord, how manifold are thy works ! in wisdom hast 
thou made them all : the earth is full of thy riches. So is 
this great and wide sea, wherein are things creeping innu- 
merable, both small and great beasts. There go the ships : 
there is that leviathan, whom thou hast made to play there- 
in. These wait all upon thee ; that thou mayest give them 
their meat in due season. That thou givest them they 
gather : thou openest thine hand, they are filled with good. 
Thou hidest thy face, they are troubled : thou takest away 
their breath, they die, and return to their dust. Thou 

310 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

sendest forth thy spirit, they are created : and thou renew- 
est the face of the earth. 

1. The glory of the Lord shall endure for ever : the Lord 
shall rejoice in his works. He looketh on the earth, and it 
trembleth : he toucheth the hills, and they smoke. I will 
sing unto the Lord as long as I live : I will sing praise to 
my God while I have my being. My meditation of him 
shall be sweet : I will be glad in the Lord. Let the sin- 
ners be consumed out of the earth, and let the wicked be 
no more. Bless thou the Lord, O my soul. Praise ye the 
Lord - Bible. 


1. And I saw a new heaven and a new earth : for the 
first heaven and the first earth were passed away; and 
there was no more sea. And I John saw the holy city, 
new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, pre- 
pared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a 
great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of 
God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they 
shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, 
and be their God. And God shall wipe away all tears 
from their eyes ; and there shall be no more death, neither 
sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: 
for the former things are passed away. 

2. And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make 
all things new. And he said unto me, Write : for these 
words are true and faithful. And he said unto me, It is 
done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. 
I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the 
water of life freely. He that overcometh shall inherit all 
things ; and I will be his God, and he shall be my son. 
But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and 

sterling's southern fourth reader. 311 

murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, 
and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burn- 
etii with fire and brimstone : which is the second death. 

3. And there came unto me one of the seven angels which 
had the seven vials full of the seven last plagues, and talked 
with me, saying, Come hither, I will show thee the bride, 
the Lamb's wife. And he carried me away in the spirit to 
a great and high mountain, and showed me that great city, 
the holy Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God, 
having the glory of God : and her light was like unto a 
stone most precious, even like a jasper stone, clear as crys- 
tal ; and had a wall great and high, and had twelve gates, 
and at the gates twelve angels, and names written thereon, 
which are the names of the twelve tribes of the children of 
Israel : on the east three gates ; on the north three gates ; 
on the south three gates ; and on the west three gates. 
And the wall of the city had twelve foundations, and in 
them the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb. 

4. And he that talked with me had a golden reed to 
measure the city, and the gates thereof, and the wall there- 
of. And the city lieth foursquare, and the length is as 
large as the breadth : and he measured the city with the 
reed, twelve thousand furlongs. The length and the 
breadth and the height of it are equal. And he measured 
the wall thereof, an hundred and forty and four cubits, ac- 
cording to the measure of a man, that is, of the angel. 

5. And the building of the wall of it was of jasper : and 
the city was pure gold, like unto clear glass. And the 
foundations of the wall of the city were garnished with all 
manner of precious stones. The first foundation was jas- 
per ; the second, sapphire ; the third, a chalcedony ; the 
fourth, an emerald ; the fifth, sardonyx ; the sixth, sardius ; 
the seventh, chrysolite ; the eighth, beryl ; the ninth, a to- 
paz ; the tenth, a chrysoprasus ; the eleventh, a jacinth ; 
the twelfth, an amethyst. And the twelve gates were 
twelve pearls ; every several gate was of one pearl : and 

312 sterling's southern fourth reader. 

the street of the city was pure gold, as it were transparent 

6. And I saw no temple therein : for the Lord God 
Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it. And the city 
had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it : 
for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the 
light thereof. And the nations of them which are saved 
shall walk in the light of it : and the kings of the earth do 
bring their glory and honor into it. And the gates of it 
shall not be shut at all by day : for there shall be no night 
there. And they shall bring the glory and honor of the 
nations into it. And there shall in no wise enter into it 
any thing that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomi- 
nation, or maketh a lie : but they which are written in the 
Lamb's book of life. Bible. • 

IfoTtTx (Sarch'na, 

North Carolina State Library 

GC 372.412 S838s t& 

Sterling, Richard, 1812-1883. 
Sterling's Southern |hWW?(t reader: 


3 3091 00270 0441